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She had been summoned, and while Demi was usually loathe to leave Arcana and Hector alone to handle his girls, especially in times of great strife, she could not deny the handsome amount of money the offer came with. It was money that ensured she would not have to take anymore clients for the next half a year at least, or at least afford her a few new dresses. A handsome sum that had eventually led to the beautiful, reknown pleasure worker of Arcana to agree.
Having been offered a carriage to bring her to Athenia, the lady was wide-eyed as she had first been brought through the streets of the capitol. Her luggage was small, simply a few dresses and her face paints in a small, burlap satchel on her lap. The carriage was far finer then any wagon Demi had ever been in,but the girl eschewed studying the carriage for looking out the window. It was marvel in her enchantingly green eyes as she peered at the bustling market, the chatter of people going about their days. Much like Arcana, as Athenia was also bordering the sea - just so, so many more people.
As much as Demi would've enjoyed to explore the capitol and see more of the sights (for this would be one of the rare times she's came to Athenia itself), she wasn't here for leisure, and neither would the carriage driver listen to her instructions. He had been directed to bring the pleasure worker directly to the lord himself, and that was soon where Demi found herself as the carriage rumbled to a stop beneath her, and the driver opened the door to hand the girl down.
Careful to pick up her sky blue chiton so it did not drag on the ground, the dress was pinned up with a silver fibulae only over one shoulder, leaving the other quite bare. The style of it also meant that it rode low on her chest, allowing a fair amount of her creamy chest to peek up from the top of its rolled edges. Her hair was naturally curled, but pinned to the top of her head to allow people to admire the natural curve of her neck. Kohl lined her eyes and red had been painted across her lips, all accentuating the looks which had made Demi famous. And if this was a job, she had to arrive looking her best afterall.
Sure, she had expected the manor to be large. Afterall, it wasn't as if she's never heard of the name Stravos before. One of the four royal families of Athenia, new but rich, business savvy... Demi's heard about them. But she's never expected to be summoned to service one of them before. Her eyes were large as the carriage doors were closed behind her, observing the imposingly large house. She made her way to the entrance whilst the vehicle drove off, and as if the servants had been expecting her, the doors opened just as she arrived, and a maid materialized out of nowhere. silently leading her to a waiting room.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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She had been summoned, and while Demi was usually loathe to leave Arcana and Hector alone to handle his girls, especially in times of great strife, she could not deny the handsome amount of money the offer came with. It was money that ensured she would not have to take anymore clients for the next half a year at least, or at least afford her a few new dresses. A handsome sum that had eventually led to the beautiful, reknown pleasure worker of Arcana to agree.
Having been offered a carriage to bring her to Athenia, the lady was wide-eyed as she had first been brought through the streets of the capitol. Her luggage was small, simply a few dresses and her face paints in a small, burlap satchel on her lap. The carriage was far finer then any wagon Demi had ever been in,but the girl eschewed studying the carriage for looking out the window. It was marvel in her enchantingly green eyes as she peered at the bustling market, the chatter of people going about their days. Much like Arcana, as Athenia was also bordering the sea - just so, so many more people.
As much as Demi would've enjoyed to explore the capitol and see more of the sights (for this would be one of the rare times she's came to Athenia itself), she wasn't here for leisure, and neither would the carriage driver listen to her instructions. He had been directed to bring the pleasure worker directly to the lord himself, and that was soon where Demi found herself as the carriage rumbled to a stop beneath her, and the driver opened the door to hand the girl down.
Careful to pick up her sky blue chiton so it did not drag on the ground, the dress was pinned up with a silver fibulae only over one shoulder, leaving the other quite bare. The style of it also meant that it rode low on her chest, allowing a fair amount of her creamy chest to peek up from the top of its rolled edges. Her hair was naturally curled, but pinned to the top of her head to allow people to admire the natural curve of her neck. Kohl lined her eyes and red had been painted across her lips, all accentuating the looks which had made Demi famous. And if this was a job, she had to arrive looking her best afterall.
Sure, she had expected the manor to be large. Afterall, it wasn't as if she's never heard of the name Stravos before. One of the four royal families of Athenia, new but rich, business savvy... Demi's heard about them. But she's never expected to be summoned to service one of them before. Her eyes were large as the carriage doors were closed behind her, observing the imposingly large house. She made her way to the entrance whilst the vehicle drove off, and as if the servants had been expecting her, the doors opened just as she arrived, and a maid materialized out of nowhere. silently leading her to a waiting room.
She had been summoned, and while Demi was usually loathe to leave Arcana and Hector alone to handle his girls, especially in times of great strife, she could not deny the handsome amount of money the offer came with. It was money that ensured she would not have to take anymore clients for the next half a year at least, or at least afford her a few new dresses. A handsome sum that had eventually led to the beautiful, reknown pleasure worker of Arcana to agree.
Having been offered a carriage to bring her to Athenia, the lady was wide-eyed as she had first been brought through the streets of the capitol. Her luggage was small, simply a few dresses and her face paints in a small, burlap satchel on her lap. The carriage was far finer then any wagon Demi had ever been in,but the girl eschewed studying the carriage for looking out the window. It was marvel in her enchantingly green eyes as she peered at the bustling market, the chatter of people going about their days. Much like Arcana, as Athenia was also bordering the sea - just so, so many more people.
As much as Demi would've enjoyed to explore the capitol and see more of the sights (for this would be one of the rare times she's came to Athenia itself), she wasn't here for leisure, and neither would the carriage driver listen to her instructions. He had been directed to bring the pleasure worker directly to the lord himself, and that was soon where Demi found herself as the carriage rumbled to a stop beneath her, and the driver opened the door to hand the girl down.
Careful to pick up her sky blue chiton so it did not drag on the ground, the dress was pinned up with a silver fibulae only over one shoulder, leaving the other quite bare. The style of it also meant that it rode low on her chest, allowing a fair amount of her creamy chest to peek up from the top of its rolled edges. Her hair was naturally curled, but pinned to the top of her head to allow people to admire the natural curve of her neck. Kohl lined her eyes and red had been painted across her lips, all accentuating the looks which had made Demi famous. And if this was a job, she had to arrive looking her best afterall.
Sure, she had expected the manor to be large. Afterall, it wasn't as if she's never heard of the name Stravos before. One of the four royal families of Athenia, new but rich, business savvy... Demi's heard about them. But she's never expected to be summoned to service one of them before. Her eyes were large as the carriage doors were closed behind her, observing the imposingly large house. She made her way to the entrance whilst the vehicle drove off, and as if the servants had been expecting her, the doors opened just as she arrived, and a maid materialized out of nowhere. silently leading her to a waiting room.
The aging lord and princess had been hard at work, uniting in the common cause of restoring the royal house of Stravos until their success was a given. The heir to the lineage was confined to his home, all entrances and exits restricted to him. Imprisoned in his own home! Truly, Elias of Stravos couldn't be angrier at the world. Imprisonment or death might have been harsher punishments, but neither carried with them the humiliation of his own guard becoming his keepers. While all three options shrank the world, this one was paired with the humiliation that Elias of Stravos could act, he could have escaped to assist in the endeavors, but it was all for naught. Circenia and Keikelius did the deed that Elias forced them to, and the Lord of Stravos was left a spectator, a child-again forced to watch in dismay as his parents cleaned up the messes he made.
Even when the house of Stravos stood again in solidarity with the royal families of Athenia, Elias of Stravos was a prisoner. He'd not been acquitted of any of his crimes just yet, no order had been given to grant him freedom, and the world tightened its noose about his neck as even the whispered words of his treachery passed through the halls of Stravos house. It was sickening to hear them from inside of the walls, but still he listened, toiling and languishing in his inability to leave as even the guards sworn to keep him in the manor spoke ill, titling him as a disgrace, a traitor to the kingdom of Athenia.
Is it treason, to oust a woman -- nay, a witch -- who so thoroughly wound her magic about the people of Athenia that they believe the laws of the land inapplicable to her?! Is it treason to purify a land of the cankers that she embedded deep within? No, those who keep me confined are the traitors, glorying in their subjugation as the fires of progress wax higher and higher, threatening to engulf us all!
Thoughts of doom and gloom, of witchcraft and armageddon plagued Elias of Stravos as he languished in his opulence, a prisoner in every way that mattered even the slightest amount to him. The Stravos heir cared not for the fact that he slept in silk instead of burlap, that he had summoned a prestigious whore to satisfy his hungers with, nor the fact that he was a noble in every way once again. Elias was confined, shackled, and most importantly, stagnant. None of his plans could progress for at least a smattering of days, leaving him with just enough time to amuse himself with the bought and tendered body of the illustrious Demi of Arcana before the stars aligned in his favor.
As soon as his nobility was restored, he'd called upon his attendants, his personal fortunes frozen into worthlessness, but there were other fortunes he had claim to in his position. He turned the wheels of his machinations once more, and with them came her. The heir to Stravos could see her as she emerged from the carriage, her sky blue chiton tapered at the arm to reveal enough milky skin and luscious flesh to rouse his attentions even from the distance. At the sight of her, the anger simmered and the lascivious sensation of desire summoned itself from the depths of his psyche.
For too long Elias languished within this place, with nothing to entertain him but the cold prospect of Persephone's head mounted on a wall, of Aimias' corpse hanging from the palace gardens, and of Emilia of Xanthos left a prisoner-wife to a king hellbent on destroying the Senate that bound him into local exile. Tyranny was what Elias of Stravos craved, for those that defied his will to burn and their loved ones drown, for their ashes to scatter to the winds of his divine retribution. How he craved for the moment Persephone of Xanthos breathed her last, but the thought of that was cast aside once Demi was sitting alone in the adjacent room.
Elias of Stravos carried himself over to her, dressed in black silk that seemed a bit too ragged for a man in his position. While unkempt and unshaven, the heir to Stravos still bled with the ethereal beauty that so many associated with the bestowed divinity of the Gods. To them, it was a sign of Elias' favor, to him it was permission to rule everything. He scarcely cared who was right as he pushed open the door. The maid that tended to Demi sought to pass the Stravos by, the irritable lord striking her on the rear to a yelp of surprise as the reception. She scampered off and Elias was left to his devices and his plaything.
The room they languished in was bare, with heavy linen curtains covering the outside world from view. The Stravos had sold off a great many possessions to keep themselves afloat during the sham that was their downfall. Elias regretted being caught in the act of betrayal, and swore to restore the house to its rightful condition when Persephone's head could lay on the mantle of the former theatre house's sitting room. Elias did not speak immediately to the harlot in his presence. Instead, he allowed a gentle touch to slide beneath her chin, raising up her head to allow the Stravos' gaze to pilfer along the line of her jugular before shifting to the crevice of her bound breasts. His touch lowered, sliding sensuously along her throat before the digits wound into the hairs at her scalp.
"I've heard so many good things about you, Demi of Arcana," he assured her, quite pleased with the whore's attire and not disappointed in the slightest by the reality of her when all he'd known before was hearsay. She lived to expectation, and he was keen on allowing both his frustrations and his desires to lavish her. His fingertips lowered from her scalp to drift next along the bare flesh of her shoulder, weaving between flesh and the clip that held her chiton together. With a sweeping motion it was all undone, and he'd push forward, his chest intent on meeting bared breasts, fingernails raking upward along the flesh of her spine.
"I trust you won't disappoint me."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The aging lord and princess had been hard at work, uniting in the common cause of restoring the royal house of Stravos until their success was a given. The heir to the lineage was confined to his home, all entrances and exits restricted to him. Imprisoned in his own home! Truly, Elias of Stravos couldn't be angrier at the world. Imprisonment or death might have been harsher punishments, but neither carried with them the humiliation of his own guard becoming his keepers. While all three options shrank the world, this one was paired with the humiliation that Elias of Stravos could act, he could have escaped to assist in the endeavors, but it was all for naught. Circenia and Keikelius did the deed that Elias forced them to, and the Lord of Stravos was left a spectator, a child-again forced to watch in dismay as his parents cleaned up the messes he made.
Even when the house of Stravos stood again in solidarity with the royal families of Athenia, Elias of Stravos was a prisoner. He'd not been acquitted of any of his crimes just yet, no order had been given to grant him freedom, and the world tightened its noose about his neck as even the whispered words of his treachery passed through the halls of Stravos house. It was sickening to hear them from inside of the walls, but still he listened, toiling and languishing in his inability to leave as even the guards sworn to keep him in the manor spoke ill, titling him as a disgrace, a traitor to the kingdom of Athenia.
Is it treason, to oust a woman -- nay, a witch -- who so thoroughly wound her magic about the people of Athenia that they believe the laws of the land inapplicable to her?! Is it treason to purify a land of the cankers that she embedded deep within? No, those who keep me confined are the traitors, glorying in their subjugation as the fires of progress wax higher and higher, threatening to engulf us all!
Thoughts of doom and gloom, of witchcraft and armageddon plagued Elias of Stravos as he languished in his opulence, a prisoner in every way that mattered even the slightest amount to him. The Stravos heir cared not for the fact that he slept in silk instead of burlap, that he had summoned a prestigious whore to satisfy his hungers with, nor the fact that he was a noble in every way once again. Elias was confined, shackled, and most importantly, stagnant. None of his plans could progress for at least a smattering of days, leaving him with just enough time to amuse himself with the bought and tendered body of the illustrious Demi of Arcana before the stars aligned in his favor.
As soon as his nobility was restored, he'd called upon his attendants, his personal fortunes frozen into worthlessness, but there were other fortunes he had claim to in his position. He turned the wheels of his machinations once more, and with them came her. The heir to Stravos could see her as she emerged from the carriage, her sky blue chiton tapered at the arm to reveal enough milky skin and luscious flesh to rouse his attentions even from the distance. At the sight of her, the anger simmered and the lascivious sensation of desire summoned itself from the depths of his psyche.
For too long Elias languished within this place, with nothing to entertain him but the cold prospect of Persephone's head mounted on a wall, of Aimias' corpse hanging from the palace gardens, and of Emilia of Xanthos left a prisoner-wife to a king hellbent on destroying the Senate that bound him into local exile. Tyranny was what Elias of Stravos craved, for those that defied his will to burn and their loved ones drown, for their ashes to scatter to the winds of his divine retribution. How he craved for the moment Persephone of Xanthos breathed her last, but the thought of that was cast aside once Demi was sitting alone in the adjacent room.
Elias of Stravos carried himself over to her, dressed in black silk that seemed a bit too ragged for a man in his position. While unkempt and unshaven, the heir to Stravos still bled with the ethereal beauty that so many associated with the bestowed divinity of the Gods. To them, it was a sign of Elias' favor, to him it was permission to rule everything. He scarcely cared who was right as he pushed open the door. The maid that tended to Demi sought to pass the Stravos by, the irritable lord striking her on the rear to a yelp of surprise as the reception. She scampered off and Elias was left to his devices and his plaything.
The room they languished in was bare, with heavy linen curtains covering the outside world from view. The Stravos had sold off a great many possessions to keep themselves afloat during the sham that was their downfall. Elias regretted being caught in the act of betrayal, and swore to restore the house to its rightful condition when Persephone's head could lay on the mantle of the former theatre house's sitting room. Elias did not speak immediately to the harlot in his presence. Instead, he allowed a gentle touch to slide beneath her chin, raising up her head to allow the Stravos' gaze to pilfer along the line of her jugular before shifting to the crevice of her bound breasts. His touch lowered, sliding sensuously along her throat before the digits wound into the hairs at her scalp.
"I've heard so many good things about you, Demi of Arcana," he assured her, quite pleased with the whore's attire and not disappointed in the slightest by the reality of her when all he'd known before was hearsay. She lived to expectation, and he was keen on allowing both his frustrations and his desires to lavish her. His fingertips lowered from her scalp to drift next along the bare flesh of her shoulder, weaving between flesh and the clip that held her chiton together. With a sweeping motion it was all undone, and he'd push forward, his chest intent on meeting bared breasts, fingernails raking upward along the flesh of her spine.
"I trust you won't disappoint me."
The aging lord and princess had been hard at work, uniting in the common cause of restoring the royal house of Stravos until their success was a given. The heir to the lineage was confined to his home, all entrances and exits restricted to him. Imprisoned in his own home! Truly, Elias of Stravos couldn't be angrier at the world. Imprisonment or death might have been harsher punishments, but neither carried with them the humiliation of his own guard becoming his keepers. While all three options shrank the world, this one was paired with the humiliation that Elias of Stravos could act, he could have escaped to assist in the endeavors, but it was all for naught. Circenia and Keikelius did the deed that Elias forced them to, and the Lord of Stravos was left a spectator, a child-again forced to watch in dismay as his parents cleaned up the messes he made.
Even when the house of Stravos stood again in solidarity with the royal families of Athenia, Elias of Stravos was a prisoner. He'd not been acquitted of any of his crimes just yet, no order had been given to grant him freedom, and the world tightened its noose about his neck as even the whispered words of his treachery passed through the halls of Stravos house. It was sickening to hear them from inside of the walls, but still he listened, toiling and languishing in his inability to leave as even the guards sworn to keep him in the manor spoke ill, titling him as a disgrace, a traitor to the kingdom of Athenia.
Is it treason, to oust a woman -- nay, a witch -- who so thoroughly wound her magic about the people of Athenia that they believe the laws of the land inapplicable to her?! Is it treason to purify a land of the cankers that she embedded deep within? No, those who keep me confined are the traitors, glorying in their subjugation as the fires of progress wax higher and higher, threatening to engulf us all!
Thoughts of doom and gloom, of witchcraft and armageddon plagued Elias of Stravos as he languished in his opulence, a prisoner in every way that mattered even the slightest amount to him. The Stravos heir cared not for the fact that he slept in silk instead of burlap, that he had summoned a prestigious whore to satisfy his hungers with, nor the fact that he was a noble in every way once again. Elias was confined, shackled, and most importantly, stagnant. None of his plans could progress for at least a smattering of days, leaving him with just enough time to amuse himself with the bought and tendered body of the illustrious Demi of Arcana before the stars aligned in his favor.
As soon as his nobility was restored, he'd called upon his attendants, his personal fortunes frozen into worthlessness, but there were other fortunes he had claim to in his position. He turned the wheels of his machinations once more, and with them came her. The heir to Stravos could see her as she emerged from the carriage, her sky blue chiton tapered at the arm to reveal enough milky skin and luscious flesh to rouse his attentions even from the distance. At the sight of her, the anger simmered and the lascivious sensation of desire summoned itself from the depths of his psyche.
For too long Elias languished within this place, with nothing to entertain him but the cold prospect of Persephone's head mounted on a wall, of Aimias' corpse hanging from the palace gardens, and of Emilia of Xanthos left a prisoner-wife to a king hellbent on destroying the Senate that bound him into local exile. Tyranny was what Elias of Stravos craved, for those that defied his will to burn and their loved ones drown, for their ashes to scatter to the winds of his divine retribution. How he craved for the moment Persephone of Xanthos breathed her last, but the thought of that was cast aside once Demi was sitting alone in the adjacent room.
Elias of Stravos carried himself over to her, dressed in black silk that seemed a bit too ragged for a man in his position. While unkempt and unshaven, the heir to Stravos still bled with the ethereal beauty that so many associated with the bestowed divinity of the Gods. To them, it was a sign of Elias' favor, to him it was permission to rule everything. He scarcely cared who was right as he pushed open the door. The maid that tended to Demi sought to pass the Stravos by, the irritable lord striking her on the rear to a yelp of surprise as the reception. She scampered off and Elias was left to his devices and his plaything.
The room they languished in was bare, with heavy linen curtains covering the outside world from view. The Stravos had sold off a great many possessions to keep themselves afloat during the sham that was their downfall. Elias regretted being caught in the act of betrayal, and swore to restore the house to its rightful condition when Persephone's head could lay on the mantle of the former theatre house's sitting room. Elias did not speak immediately to the harlot in his presence. Instead, he allowed a gentle touch to slide beneath her chin, raising up her head to allow the Stravos' gaze to pilfer along the line of her jugular before shifting to the crevice of her bound breasts. His touch lowered, sliding sensuously along her throat before the digits wound into the hairs at her scalp.
"I've heard so many good things about you, Demi of Arcana," he assured her, quite pleased with the whore's attire and not disappointed in the slightest by the reality of her when all he'd known before was hearsay. She lived to expectation, and he was keen on allowing both his frustrations and his desires to lavish her. His fingertips lowered from her scalp to drift next along the bare flesh of her shoulder, weaving between flesh and the clip that held her chiton together. With a sweeping motion it was all undone, and he'd push forward, his chest intent on meeting bared breasts, fingernails raking upward along the flesh of her spine.
"I trust you won't disappoint me."
It was strangely silent, this house that supposedly belonged to a royal family. And oddly empty. Did all royal families had such little... extravagance in their homes? How does the outside look fit for a God, but the inside be as bare as a peasant's home? Then again though, Demi reasoned, she was led directly from the entryway to this room that was bare, and with heavy linen curtains. She really shouldn't be judging.
In the room, the maid left her and her meagre belongings, but just as Demi was beginning to wonder just how long she'd have to be alone, the door had scarcely closed when it reopened again. The maid's squeal was enough to tell Demi who this lord she was supposed to service was like, but neither was she prepared for how he looked like. She had heard rumors of course, many said Lord Elias of Stravos must surely be blessed by the Gods, either Aphrodite or Apollo, for he exuded beauty beyond belief. Demi had scoffed at them, for she found it hard to believe.
Now she did.
Something about the sinewy frame, the intense look in the brown irises along with the regal presence and blond locks, resulted in the summoned pleasure worker staring for a few long seconds before she finally snapped to attention as the door closed behind him, and they were left alone.
Suddenly feeling as if she was a lamb about to be led to sacrifice, Demi had to gulp the sudden lump that formed in her throat as he drew nearer to her, but did not react as he touched her gently upon her chin. Allowing him to raise her chin, the girl felt the situation creepily relate to how she had been as a body slave - but perhaps not quite as dire. Back then, she was not given a choice. So she had to simply endure what was given. Now, whatever Demi did was a choice of her own - but he also offered a payment far too handsome to give up. So endure it she will, biting down on her bottom lip as his touch lingered upon the top of her breasts, and then to her scalp.
Her breath sucked in sharply when he unclasped the single fibulae that held her chiton up, loosening the material that it dropped down to her waist where a belt chinched it to her midsection, leaving the top half of her body to his laviscious gaze. How did it feel so different when she indulged in this with Hector? With her lover, she felt appreciated, admired, loved even. Yet with a lord this beautiful, she felt salivated over like a fallen doe and a lion, a feeling not at all comfortable.
A shiver passed up her spine as her gaze followed Elias's, but she nodded. "I try not to, my lord." she murmured in response, keeping her arms by her side still, not moving till he would instruct her. "I will do as you wish, Lord Elias." Pliant, agreeable, beautiful. It was everything that made Demi so worth a purchase, so worth a service, so high of quality, for Demi was willing to try many things with her clients, so long as they asked and the coin was paid. She was nothing if not a star actress.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was strangely silent, this house that supposedly belonged to a royal family. And oddly empty. Did all royal families had such little... extravagance in their homes? How does the outside look fit for a God, but the inside be as bare as a peasant's home? Then again though, Demi reasoned, she was led directly from the entryway to this room that was bare, and with heavy linen curtains. She really shouldn't be judging.
In the room, the maid left her and her meagre belongings, but just as Demi was beginning to wonder just how long she'd have to be alone, the door had scarcely closed when it reopened again. The maid's squeal was enough to tell Demi who this lord she was supposed to service was like, but neither was she prepared for how he looked like. She had heard rumors of course, many said Lord Elias of Stravos must surely be blessed by the Gods, either Aphrodite or Apollo, for he exuded beauty beyond belief. Demi had scoffed at them, for she found it hard to believe.
Now she did.
Something about the sinewy frame, the intense look in the brown irises along with the regal presence and blond locks, resulted in the summoned pleasure worker staring for a few long seconds before she finally snapped to attention as the door closed behind him, and they were left alone.
Suddenly feeling as if she was a lamb about to be led to sacrifice, Demi had to gulp the sudden lump that formed in her throat as he drew nearer to her, but did not react as he touched her gently upon her chin. Allowing him to raise her chin, the girl felt the situation creepily relate to how she had been as a body slave - but perhaps not quite as dire. Back then, she was not given a choice. So she had to simply endure what was given. Now, whatever Demi did was a choice of her own - but he also offered a payment far too handsome to give up. So endure it she will, biting down on her bottom lip as his touch lingered upon the top of her breasts, and then to her scalp.
Her breath sucked in sharply when he unclasped the single fibulae that held her chiton up, loosening the material that it dropped down to her waist where a belt chinched it to her midsection, leaving the top half of her body to his laviscious gaze. How did it feel so different when she indulged in this with Hector? With her lover, she felt appreciated, admired, loved even. Yet with a lord this beautiful, she felt salivated over like a fallen doe and a lion, a feeling not at all comfortable.
A shiver passed up her spine as her gaze followed Elias's, but she nodded. "I try not to, my lord." she murmured in response, keeping her arms by her side still, not moving till he would instruct her. "I will do as you wish, Lord Elias." Pliant, agreeable, beautiful. It was everything that made Demi so worth a purchase, so worth a service, so high of quality, for Demi was willing to try many things with her clients, so long as they asked and the coin was paid. She was nothing if not a star actress.
It was strangely silent, this house that supposedly belonged to a royal family. And oddly empty. Did all royal families had such little... extravagance in their homes? How does the outside look fit for a God, but the inside be as bare as a peasant's home? Then again though, Demi reasoned, she was led directly from the entryway to this room that was bare, and with heavy linen curtains. She really shouldn't be judging.
In the room, the maid left her and her meagre belongings, but just as Demi was beginning to wonder just how long she'd have to be alone, the door had scarcely closed when it reopened again. The maid's squeal was enough to tell Demi who this lord she was supposed to service was like, but neither was she prepared for how he looked like. She had heard rumors of course, many said Lord Elias of Stravos must surely be blessed by the Gods, either Aphrodite or Apollo, for he exuded beauty beyond belief. Demi had scoffed at them, for she found it hard to believe.
Now she did.
Something about the sinewy frame, the intense look in the brown irises along with the regal presence and blond locks, resulted in the summoned pleasure worker staring for a few long seconds before she finally snapped to attention as the door closed behind him, and they were left alone.
Suddenly feeling as if she was a lamb about to be led to sacrifice, Demi had to gulp the sudden lump that formed in her throat as he drew nearer to her, but did not react as he touched her gently upon her chin. Allowing him to raise her chin, the girl felt the situation creepily relate to how she had been as a body slave - but perhaps not quite as dire. Back then, she was not given a choice. So she had to simply endure what was given. Now, whatever Demi did was a choice of her own - but he also offered a payment far too handsome to give up. So endure it she will, biting down on her bottom lip as his touch lingered upon the top of her breasts, and then to her scalp.
Her breath sucked in sharply when he unclasped the single fibulae that held her chiton up, loosening the material that it dropped down to her waist where a belt chinched it to her midsection, leaving the top half of her body to his laviscious gaze. How did it feel so different when she indulged in this with Hector? With her lover, she felt appreciated, admired, loved even. Yet with a lord this beautiful, she felt salivated over like a fallen doe and a lion, a feeling not at all comfortable.
A shiver passed up her spine as her gaze followed Elias's, but she nodded. "I try not to, my lord." she murmured in response, keeping her arms by her side still, not moving till he would instruct her. "I will do as you wish, Lord Elias." Pliant, agreeable, beautiful. It was everything that made Demi so worth a purchase, so worth a service, so high of quality, for Demi was willing to try many things with her clients, so long as they asked and the coin was paid. She was nothing if not a star actress.
It was truly an object of Elias’ disgust to remain trapped within the husk of Archontiko Stravos as it was stripped clean. The horror that was being stripped of nobility; of the superiority he’d known all of his life being torn away from him… it was agonizing. All that encompassed Elias of Stravos’ world, that gave him his worth, that fueled his ego had come crashing down around him. Without his nobility, Elias of Stravos was a man of impeccable beauty and intellect, unmatched by the ravenous cur around him. But such things were trivial without the incomparable prestige that came with his noble blood. The anger at the Senate for tearing it away from him, the anger at himself for making his letter identifiable to those that might undo him… it nearly drove him insane. He’d toiled too long within Stravos manor alone, and now, with his nobility restored but his freedom as of yet ungranted, there was anger for Elias of Stravos to release. There were urges to satisfy. And there was a woman before him, bought and paid for, waiting to satisfy them.
Elias of Stravos curved an eyebrow upward as he looked upon Demi of Arcana. The manor that was Archontiko Stravos, while deprived of decoration and stripped of its trimmings, was an estate far grander than her backwater hovel, wherever it was, would ever know and yet her expression told him she expected something more. Always keen to analyze the features of those before him, Elias of Stravos wondered exactly what it was his plaything thought of the place before he looked down at her exposed breasts and decided that he didn’t care. She’d looked to him before with the familiar awestruck stare that any woman might be so lucky to lavish upon him. There was a sort of shock to his presence, to the overwhelming divinity that was present in his visage. It was a quality that affected even Elias himself, a man who spent perhaps a few moments too long admiring himself in the mirror when he groomed himself. Was it wrong, to be satisfied by what he saw? How many others could say that they loved themselves at all? Misery and wretchedness were common to the human condition, with so many using the rudimentary augmentations of kohl or the primitive pomades and lotions to seem even remotely interesting to the opposite sex. Elias needed no such assistance.
As Elias unwrapped the present, he gave to himself, he heard her breath suck in, he witnessed the subtle changes in her demeanor and wondered if it was normal for a whore to feel fear or apprehension in the face of their clientele. In his time, Elias had rarely felt the need for whores. Not that he’d never partaken, though this was the first to his recollection that he’d paid for out of pocket. Harlots and prostitutes were a common reward in the seedier realms of business that Elias took to in his time as a baron. Some might call it corruption, but who could argue with the results of Elias’ will, for so significant Lyncestia had grown in his time ruling over it. So, he reaped his rewards, drank his booze, fucked his whores, but perhaps none of them could compare to the one in front of him. He drank in the sight of Demi of Arcana, his chest drawn against her breasts. Lips sought to claim the whore’s, parting them without acknowledging her words. His tongue entwined with Demi’s, his chest pushing into hers as an arm slung about her waist. It was not the prerogative of Elias of Stravos to wait nor ask.
Like everything else in his life, he took what was rightfully his, and for the smattering of days that he owned Demi of Arcana, he had every intention of doing just that. Hands grasped at the whore’s rear, kneading his digits into her flesh with practiced hands. Lips parted away from hers before he pulled away. He allowed himself a moment to look over her, curious if the harlot would grow flustered. He expected not, given her profession, but in the face of such ethereal beauty perhaps even the most perverse of women might find a blush dusting their countenance. Once he’d satisfied himself (for the moment) with the taste of her lips, his hand rose up from her hips, his touch firm enough to leave soreness in her flesh before it turned feather light anew. His fingers danced about her throat, his lips brushing against hers in a playful display before he breathed against her ear,
”That’s a good girl. Of course you will. Come with me,” he commanded her. The Stravos wrapped an arm about the harlot’s shoulders, letting those sensuous fingertips dance along the flesh of her shoulder before he absconded with her through the estate. The centre of Archontiko Stravos was an abandoned theatre, whisked of its trappings but kept on with the heavy curtains that draped the place in darkness. Lanterns hung on the walls, giving the place the appearance of the dungeon that to Elias it had very much turned into. He lamented the loss of furnishings, but moreso he detested how the place he’d so loved for the twenty-four years of his life had turned to a prison cell and looked the part.
Elias of Stravos took the whore to his bedroom, closing the door behind them before he gestured for Demi to step forward to the centre of it. He whisked himself throughout the room until he returned, careful to remain out of the woman’s sight. It wasn’t until his smoothed palms caressed her wrists that he made himself known, pulling the whore’s arms behind her back before tying them together at the wrist. If she’d ever taken to sailing, the knot might be familiar, lashed across her wrists and up to the elbows before knotting at the center of her spine. The Stravos shifted his grasp, reaching around her to pull the belt that held her dress to her body. He intended to leave her bare and bound, the perfect indulgence and distraction from the world that had crumbled around him. Nails grazed along the woman’s back, playing higher along until they hit her shoulder blades before he turned her again to face him.
”Kneel,” he commanded her, his fingers rising up to tighten into her hair.
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It was truly an object of Elias’ disgust to remain trapped within the husk of Archontiko Stravos as it was stripped clean. The horror that was being stripped of nobility; of the superiority he’d known all of his life being torn away from him… it was agonizing. All that encompassed Elias of Stravos’ world, that gave him his worth, that fueled his ego had come crashing down around him. Without his nobility, Elias of Stravos was a man of impeccable beauty and intellect, unmatched by the ravenous cur around him. But such things were trivial without the incomparable prestige that came with his noble blood. The anger at the Senate for tearing it away from him, the anger at himself for making his letter identifiable to those that might undo him… it nearly drove him insane. He’d toiled too long within Stravos manor alone, and now, with his nobility restored but his freedom as of yet ungranted, there was anger for Elias of Stravos to release. There were urges to satisfy. And there was a woman before him, bought and paid for, waiting to satisfy them.
Elias of Stravos curved an eyebrow upward as he looked upon Demi of Arcana. The manor that was Archontiko Stravos, while deprived of decoration and stripped of its trimmings, was an estate far grander than her backwater hovel, wherever it was, would ever know and yet her expression told him she expected something more. Always keen to analyze the features of those before him, Elias of Stravos wondered exactly what it was his plaything thought of the place before he looked down at her exposed breasts and decided that he didn’t care. She’d looked to him before with the familiar awestruck stare that any woman might be so lucky to lavish upon him. There was a sort of shock to his presence, to the overwhelming divinity that was present in his visage. It was a quality that affected even Elias himself, a man who spent perhaps a few moments too long admiring himself in the mirror when he groomed himself. Was it wrong, to be satisfied by what he saw? How many others could say that they loved themselves at all? Misery and wretchedness were common to the human condition, with so many using the rudimentary augmentations of kohl or the primitive pomades and lotions to seem even remotely interesting to the opposite sex. Elias needed no such assistance.
As Elias unwrapped the present, he gave to himself, he heard her breath suck in, he witnessed the subtle changes in her demeanor and wondered if it was normal for a whore to feel fear or apprehension in the face of their clientele. In his time, Elias had rarely felt the need for whores. Not that he’d never partaken, though this was the first to his recollection that he’d paid for out of pocket. Harlots and prostitutes were a common reward in the seedier realms of business that Elias took to in his time as a baron. Some might call it corruption, but who could argue with the results of Elias’ will, for so significant Lyncestia had grown in his time ruling over it. So, he reaped his rewards, drank his booze, fucked his whores, but perhaps none of them could compare to the one in front of him. He drank in the sight of Demi of Arcana, his chest drawn against her breasts. Lips sought to claim the whore’s, parting them without acknowledging her words. His tongue entwined with Demi’s, his chest pushing into hers as an arm slung about her waist. It was not the prerogative of Elias of Stravos to wait nor ask.
Like everything else in his life, he took what was rightfully his, and for the smattering of days that he owned Demi of Arcana, he had every intention of doing just that. Hands grasped at the whore’s rear, kneading his digits into her flesh with practiced hands. Lips parted away from hers before he pulled away. He allowed himself a moment to look over her, curious if the harlot would grow flustered. He expected not, given her profession, but in the face of such ethereal beauty perhaps even the most perverse of women might find a blush dusting their countenance. Once he’d satisfied himself (for the moment) with the taste of her lips, his hand rose up from her hips, his touch firm enough to leave soreness in her flesh before it turned feather light anew. His fingers danced about her throat, his lips brushing against hers in a playful display before he breathed against her ear,
”That’s a good girl. Of course you will. Come with me,” he commanded her. The Stravos wrapped an arm about the harlot’s shoulders, letting those sensuous fingertips dance along the flesh of her shoulder before he absconded with her through the estate. The centre of Archontiko Stravos was an abandoned theatre, whisked of its trappings but kept on with the heavy curtains that draped the place in darkness. Lanterns hung on the walls, giving the place the appearance of the dungeon that to Elias it had very much turned into. He lamented the loss of furnishings, but moreso he detested how the place he’d so loved for the twenty-four years of his life had turned to a prison cell and looked the part.
Elias of Stravos took the whore to his bedroom, closing the door behind them before he gestured for Demi to step forward to the centre of it. He whisked himself throughout the room until he returned, careful to remain out of the woman’s sight. It wasn’t until his smoothed palms caressed her wrists that he made himself known, pulling the whore’s arms behind her back before tying them together at the wrist. If she’d ever taken to sailing, the knot might be familiar, lashed across her wrists and up to the elbows before knotting at the center of her spine. The Stravos shifted his grasp, reaching around her to pull the belt that held her dress to her body. He intended to leave her bare and bound, the perfect indulgence and distraction from the world that had crumbled around him. Nails grazed along the woman’s back, playing higher along until they hit her shoulder blades before he turned her again to face him.
”Kneel,” he commanded her, his fingers rising up to tighten into her hair.
It was truly an object of Elias’ disgust to remain trapped within the husk of Archontiko Stravos as it was stripped clean. The horror that was being stripped of nobility; of the superiority he’d known all of his life being torn away from him… it was agonizing. All that encompassed Elias of Stravos’ world, that gave him his worth, that fueled his ego had come crashing down around him. Without his nobility, Elias of Stravos was a man of impeccable beauty and intellect, unmatched by the ravenous cur around him. But such things were trivial without the incomparable prestige that came with his noble blood. The anger at the Senate for tearing it away from him, the anger at himself for making his letter identifiable to those that might undo him… it nearly drove him insane. He’d toiled too long within Stravos manor alone, and now, with his nobility restored but his freedom as of yet ungranted, there was anger for Elias of Stravos to release. There were urges to satisfy. And there was a woman before him, bought and paid for, waiting to satisfy them.
Elias of Stravos curved an eyebrow upward as he looked upon Demi of Arcana. The manor that was Archontiko Stravos, while deprived of decoration and stripped of its trimmings, was an estate far grander than her backwater hovel, wherever it was, would ever know and yet her expression told him she expected something more. Always keen to analyze the features of those before him, Elias of Stravos wondered exactly what it was his plaything thought of the place before he looked down at her exposed breasts and decided that he didn’t care. She’d looked to him before with the familiar awestruck stare that any woman might be so lucky to lavish upon him. There was a sort of shock to his presence, to the overwhelming divinity that was present in his visage. It was a quality that affected even Elias himself, a man who spent perhaps a few moments too long admiring himself in the mirror when he groomed himself. Was it wrong, to be satisfied by what he saw? How many others could say that they loved themselves at all? Misery and wretchedness were common to the human condition, with so many using the rudimentary augmentations of kohl or the primitive pomades and lotions to seem even remotely interesting to the opposite sex. Elias needed no such assistance.
As Elias unwrapped the present, he gave to himself, he heard her breath suck in, he witnessed the subtle changes in her demeanor and wondered if it was normal for a whore to feel fear or apprehension in the face of their clientele. In his time, Elias had rarely felt the need for whores. Not that he’d never partaken, though this was the first to his recollection that he’d paid for out of pocket. Harlots and prostitutes were a common reward in the seedier realms of business that Elias took to in his time as a baron. Some might call it corruption, but who could argue with the results of Elias’ will, for so significant Lyncestia had grown in his time ruling over it. So, he reaped his rewards, drank his booze, fucked his whores, but perhaps none of them could compare to the one in front of him. He drank in the sight of Demi of Arcana, his chest drawn against her breasts. Lips sought to claim the whore’s, parting them without acknowledging her words. His tongue entwined with Demi’s, his chest pushing into hers as an arm slung about her waist. It was not the prerogative of Elias of Stravos to wait nor ask.
Like everything else in his life, he took what was rightfully his, and for the smattering of days that he owned Demi of Arcana, he had every intention of doing just that. Hands grasped at the whore’s rear, kneading his digits into her flesh with practiced hands. Lips parted away from hers before he pulled away. He allowed himself a moment to look over her, curious if the harlot would grow flustered. He expected not, given her profession, but in the face of such ethereal beauty perhaps even the most perverse of women might find a blush dusting their countenance. Once he’d satisfied himself (for the moment) with the taste of her lips, his hand rose up from her hips, his touch firm enough to leave soreness in her flesh before it turned feather light anew. His fingers danced about her throat, his lips brushing against hers in a playful display before he breathed against her ear,
”That’s a good girl. Of course you will. Come with me,” he commanded her. The Stravos wrapped an arm about the harlot’s shoulders, letting those sensuous fingertips dance along the flesh of her shoulder before he absconded with her through the estate. The centre of Archontiko Stravos was an abandoned theatre, whisked of its trappings but kept on with the heavy curtains that draped the place in darkness. Lanterns hung on the walls, giving the place the appearance of the dungeon that to Elias it had very much turned into. He lamented the loss of furnishings, but moreso he detested how the place he’d so loved for the twenty-four years of his life had turned to a prison cell and looked the part.
Elias of Stravos took the whore to his bedroom, closing the door behind them before he gestured for Demi to step forward to the centre of it. He whisked himself throughout the room until he returned, careful to remain out of the woman’s sight. It wasn’t until his smoothed palms caressed her wrists that he made himself known, pulling the whore’s arms behind her back before tying them together at the wrist. If she’d ever taken to sailing, the knot might be familiar, lashed across her wrists and up to the elbows before knotting at the center of her spine. The Stravos shifted his grasp, reaching around her to pull the belt that held her dress to her body. He intended to leave her bare and bound, the perfect indulgence and distraction from the world that had crumbled around him. Nails grazed along the woman’s back, playing higher along until they hit her shoulder blades before he turned her again to face him.
”Kneel,” he commanded her, his fingers rising up to tighten into her hair.
Focused as she was (for she was doing her job afterall), Demi did not allow her gaze to stray from the golden lord as he perused his purchase. Afterall, was that not what purchased items were supposed to do? Not have their own will, to be acted upon as their purchaser wished for them to do, and Demi was proud to be a perfect purchase. It was what she had built her craft upon, where her coin and freedom came from.
But when one had a lover, it does make things harder.
The kiss came suddenly, but the well versed pleasure worker reacted quickly. Becoming pliant in his arms, the brunette placed her palms splayed upon his shoulders as she met him kiss for kiss, expertly pushing thoughts of her military lover back in Arcana out of her mind. Because this was a job.
Just a job.
Pushing her waist closer when she felt his hands squeezing her arse with only the thin material of her outfit separating her from him, her cheeks were flushed and her breath coming quickly by the time Elias pulled away to observe her. But if he was expecting flustered, what the Stravos lord got instead was merely a shaded look from under hooded lids, as Demi bit her bottom lip, a picture of allure for him to enjoy himself on her purchased body and time. Leaning into his touch, she quickly followed his guide through the Stravos manor in a state of dishabille on her top half. Not that any servants would mind nor bother, she supposed. She's heard too much of this wayward, spoilt lord to even wonder if anyone would stop him.
By the time they got to his bedroom, Demi's flush had gone, but the glow remained as she followed his instructions to step in the center of his bedroom, once again an object for the admiration of his eyes. But for a moment, her gaze was distracted as she took in the new room she was brought into - so distracted she did not even realize until he yanked her arms behind her back. A surprised gasp escaped Demi, a little struggle when she felt the rope being lashed across her wrists before she remembered what some of her clients used to prefer. Demi had not taken such clients for a long time now, preferring the tamer ones so she could tend to her lover when he returned home.
But a handsome pay would allow someone to do much. So the girl gritted her teeth as the ropes were tied across her skin, knowing full well there would be abrasion upon her skin after he was done. She tried to tug when he was done, but no amount of struggling by Demi would allow her to escape. So instead, she stood quiet as the remainder of her outfit was unclasped and left to pool at her feet like she had just stepped out of Poseidon's own lair.
Spinning as he instructed, she smiled at his instruction, and kneel she did. But instead of being quick, Demi was slow as she allowed her lips to trail from his chest, down his torso, till her knees finally met the ground. Her unclasped chiton provided a smooth surface, but its thin material meant Demi still felt every hard surface of the stone floor as she leaned closer in to let the top of her nose brush against where his manhood should be. Glancing up from her position, Demi spoke from such a proximity so close to the area between his legs, her warm breath would caress his skin if he was so willing. "What else would you like me to do?"
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Focused as she was (for she was doing her job afterall), Demi did not allow her gaze to stray from the golden lord as he perused his purchase. Afterall, was that not what purchased items were supposed to do? Not have their own will, to be acted upon as their purchaser wished for them to do, and Demi was proud to be a perfect purchase. It was what she had built her craft upon, where her coin and freedom came from.
But when one had a lover, it does make things harder.
The kiss came suddenly, but the well versed pleasure worker reacted quickly. Becoming pliant in his arms, the brunette placed her palms splayed upon his shoulders as she met him kiss for kiss, expertly pushing thoughts of her military lover back in Arcana out of her mind. Because this was a job.
Just a job.
Pushing her waist closer when she felt his hands squeezing her arse with only the thin material of her outfit separating her from him, her cheeks were flushed and her breath coming quickly by the time Elias pulled away to observe her. But if he was expecting flustered, what the Stravos lord got instead was merely a shaded look from under hooded lids, as Demi bit her bottom lip, a picture of allure for him to enjoy himself on her purchased body and time. Leaning into his touch, she quickly followed his guide through the Stravos manor in a state of dishabille on her top half. Not that any servants would mind nor bother, she supposed. She's heard too much of this wayward, spoilt lord to even wonder if anyone would stop him.
By the time they got to his bedroom, Demi's flush had gone, but the glow remained as she followed his instructions to step in the center of his bedroom, once again an object for the admiration of his eyes. But for a moment, her gaze was distracted as she took in the new room she was brought into - so distracted she did not even realize until he yanked her arms behind her back. A surprised gasp escaped Demi, a little struggle when she felt the rope being lashed across her wrists before she remembered what some of her clients used to prefer. Demi had not taken such clients for a long time now, preferring the tamer ones so she could tend to her lover when he returned home.
But a handsome pay would allow someone to do much. So the girl gritted her teeth as the ropes were tied across her skin, knowing full well there would be abrasion upon her skin after he was done. She tried to tug when he was done, but no amount of struggling by Demi would allow her to escape. So instead, she stood quiet as the remainder of her outfit was unclasped and left to pool at her feet like she had just stepped out of Poseidon's own lair.
Spinning as he instructed, she smiled at his instruction, and kneel she did. But instead of being quick, Demi was slow as she allowed her lips to trail from his chest, down his torso, till her knees finally met the ground. Her unclasped chiton provided a smooth surface, but its thin material meant Demi still felt every hard surface of the stone floor as she leaned closer in to let the top of her nose brush against where his manhood should be. Glancing up from her position, Demi spoke from such a proximity so close to the area between his legs, her warm breath would caress his skin if he was so willing. "What else would you like me to do?"
Focused as she was (for she was doing her job afterall), Demi did not allow her gaze to stray from the golden lord as he perused his purchase. Afterall, was that not what purchased items were supposed to do? Not have their own will, to be acted upon as their purchaser wished for them to do, and Demi was proud to be a perfect purchase. It was what she had built her craft upon, where her coin and freedom came from.
But when one had a lover, it does make things harder.
The kiss came suddenly, but the well versed pleasure worker reacted quickly. Becoming pliant in his arms, the brunette placed her palms splayed upon his shoulders as she met him kiss for kiss, expertly pushing thoughts of her military lover back in Arcana out of her mind. Because this was a job.
Just a job.
Pushing her waist closer when she felt his hands squeezing her arse with only the thin material of her outfit separating her from him, her cheeks were flushed and her breath coming quickly by the time Elias pulled away to observe her. But if he was expecting flustered, what the Stravos lord got instead was merely a shaded look from under hooded lids, as Demi bit her bottom lip, a picture of allure for him to enjoy himself on her purchased body and time. Leaning into his touch, she quickly followed his guide through the Stravos manor in a state of dishabille on her top half. Not that any servants would mind nor bother, she supposed. She's heard too much of this wayward, spoilt lord to even wonder if anyone would stop him.
By the time they got to his bedroom, Demi's flush had gone, but the glow remained as she followed his instructions to step in the center of his bedroom, once again an object for the admiration of his eyes. But for a moment, her gaze was distracted as she took in the new room she was brought into - so distracted she did not even realize until he yanked her arms behind her back. A surprised gasp escaped Demi, a little struggle when she felt the rope being lashed across her wrists before she remembered what some of her clients used to prefer. Demi had not taken such clients for a long time now, preferring the tamer ones so she could tend to her lover when he returned home.
But a handsome pay would allow someone to do much. So the girl gritted her teeth as the ropes were tied across her skin, knowing full well there would be abrasion upon her skin after he was done. She tried to tug when he was done, but no amount of struggling by Demi would allow her to escape. So instead, she stood quiet as the remainder of her outfit was unclasped and left to pool at her feet like she had just stepped out of Poseidon's own lair.
Spinning as he instructed, she smiled at his instruction, and kneel she did. But instead of being quick, Demi was slow as she allowed her lips to trail from his chest, down his torso, till her knees finally met the ground. Her unclasped chiton provided a smooth surface, but its thin material meant Demi still felt every hard surface of the stone floor as she leaned closer in to let the top of her nose brush against where his manhood should be. Glancing up from her position, Demi spoke from such a proximity so close to the area between his legs, her warm breath would caress his skin if he was so willing. "What else would you like me to do?"
For all of the whores that Elias of Stravos had taken in his lifetime, none had the sort of intensity in their gaze as Demi of Arcana. It was not an intensity that breathed rebellion into her visage, but rather the sort of intelligence that glimmered between her gaze that others either did not possess or could not keep. Most whores he’d ever known were bought and kept by some sort of master, slaves bound and counted in number, but it seemed that Demi acted independently. He wondered as his intense gaze scrutinized her if she’d been set free, or if like some of the fighter slaves, she’d managed to pay for her own freedom through sheer competence. If it was the latter, he wasn’t surprised. But there was no point in asking the whore for her back story. It was neither his business nor a matter he cared to venture too deeply into when all that was hers was his for the taking, instead.
Elias of Stravos couldn’t help the slide of his tongue along his lower lip as she spun about to face him. She was slow in her ministrations, allowing her lips to play along the flesh of his chest far and out exposed in his unwillingness to fully close his chiton. He was in the privacy of his parents’ home, and it was almost sinful for a man of his exquisite beauty to disguise it with attire to begin with. Elias felt a shiver as those lips met his abdomen until she finally knelt before him, brushing her nose against the clothed flesh of his dormant length. Desire ran its course, and already he’d begun to swell. It was the gift of his youth that he was easily aroused, but it was the nature of his imposed captivity that made it all the simpler. Once she was fully on her knees before him, bound and submissive as a paid-for slut had the right to be the Stravos deigned it proper for him to bare himself as well.
Fingers rose up to the shoulder of his chiton, the fabric pooling to the floor before him as she posed her question. Elias of Stravos was not an overly muscular man, but corded musculature could be seen, bronzed flesh risen with the proofs of his physical perfection. He relished in brandishing his unclothed form to the women so fortunate to experience it, and Elias of Stravos raised Demi’s chin so that he had her gaze move from his hips and the length she’d soon be coaxing pleasure from up and along his lean form until she met his eyes. The thumb of his left hand slid between Demi’s lips, intent upon parting them until the digit bent, the tip of it behind her lower front teeth before he was satisfied that she’d keep her mouth open when he released her maw. His digits instead rested against her throat, his moistened thumb pressed into her pulse as his other hand guided the rigid length of him between her lips. The swollen head sought passage into her maw, and he slid himself into her, inch by inch as a sense of curiosity welled within him.
Of course, Demi of Arcana had proved her competence in the slow movements, her spinning and her unabashed display of her body when he’d freed her of her chiton. She’d proven herself worth the summons, but had she yet proven herself worth the fee? He was dubious as to whether his coin was well spent with her, and he had every intention of finding out if the whore knew how to properly suck cock.
”It seems rather obvious,” he answered at last, just as the rigid length twitched within her maw, the lord curious to see if the body slave had learned to quell her gag reflex, as other whores he’d known had.
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For all of the whores that Elias of Stravos had taken in his lifetime, none had the sort of intensity in their gaze as Demi of Arcana. It was not an intensity that breathed rebellion into her visage, but rather the sort of intelligence that glimmered between her gaze that others either did not possess or could not keep. Most whores he’d ever known were bought and kept by some sort of master, slaves bound and counted in number, but it seemed that Demi acted independently. He wondered as his intense gaze scrutinized her if she’d been set free, or if like some of the fighter slaves, she’d managed to pay for her own freedom through sheer competence. If it was the latter, he wasn’t surprised. But there was no point in asking the whore for her back story. It was neither his business nor a matter he cared to venture too deeply into when all that was hers was his for the taking, instead.
Elias of Stravos couldn’t help the slide of his tongue along his lower lip as she spun about to face him. She was slow in her ministrations, allowing her lips to play along the flesh of his chest far and out exposed in his unwillingness to fully close his chiton. He was in the privacy of his parents’ home, and it was almost sinful for a man of his exquisite beauty to disguise it with attire to begin with. Elias felt a shiver as those lips met his abdomen until she finally knelt before him, brushing her nose against the clothed flesh of his dormant length. Desire ran its course, and already he’d begun to swell. It was the gift of his youth that he was easily aroused, but it was the nature of his imposed captivity that made it all the simpler. Once she was fully on her knees before him, bound and submissive as a paid-for slut had the right to be the Stravos deigned it proper for him to bare himself as well.
Fingers rose up to the shoulder of his chiton, the fabric pooling to the floor before him as she posed her question. Elias of Stravos was not an overly muscular man, but corded musculature could be seen, bronzed flesh risen with the proofs of his physical perfection. He relished in brandishing his unclothed form to the women so fortunate to experience it, and Elias of Stravos raised Demi’s chin so that he had her gaze move from his hips and the length she’d soon be coaxing pleasure from up and along his lean form until she met his eyes. The thumb of his left hand slid between Demi’s lips, intent upon parting them until the digit bent, the tip of it behind her lower front teeth before he was satisfied that she’d keep her mouth open when he released her maw. His digits instead rested against her throat, his moistened thumb pressed into her pulse as his other hand guided the rigid length of him between her lips. The swollen head sought passage into her maw, and he slid himself into her, inch by inch as a sense of curiosity welled within him.
Of course, Demi of Arcana had proved her competence in the slow movements, her spinning and her unabashed display of her body when he’d freed her of her chiton. She’d proven herself worth the summons, but had she yet proven herself worth the fee? He was dubious as to whether his coin was well spent with her, and he had every intention of finding out if the whore knew how to properly suck cock.
”It seems rather obvious,” he answered at last, just as the rigid length twitched within her maw, the lord curious to see if the body slave had learned to quell her gag reflex, as other whores he’d known had.
For all of the whores that Elias of Stravos had taken in his lifetime, none had the sort of intensity in their gaze as Demi of Arcana. It was not an intensity that breathed rebellion into her visage, but rather the sort of intelligence that glimmered between her gaze that others either did not possess or could not keep. Most whores he’d ever known were bought and kept by some sort of master, slaves bound and counted in number, but it seemed that Demi acted independently. He wondered as his intense gaze scrutinized her if she’d been set free, or if like some of the fighter slaves, she’d managed to pay for her own freedom through sheer competence. If it was the latter, he wasn’t surprised. But there was no point in asking the whore for her back story. It was neither his business nor a matter he cared to venture too deeply into when all that was hers was his for the taking, instead.
Elias of Stravos couldn’t help the slide of his tongue along his lower lip as she spun about to face him. She was slow in her ministrations, allowing her lips to play along the flesh of his chest far and out exposed in his unwillingness to fully close his chiton. He was in the privacy of his parents’ home, and it was almost sinful for a man of his exquisite beauty to disguise it with attire to begin with. Elias felt a shiver as those lips met his abdomen until she finally knelt before him, brushing her nose against the clothed flesh of his dormant length. Desire ran its course, and already he’d begun to swell. It was the gift of his youth that he was easily aroused, but it was the nature of his imposed captivity that made it all the simpler. Once she was fully on her knees before him, bound and submissive as a paid-for slut had the right to be the Stravos deigned it proper for him to bare himself as well.
Fingers rose up to the shoulder of his chiton, the fabric pooling to the floor before him as she posed her question. Elias of Stravos was not an overly muscular man, but corded musculature could be seen, bronzed flesh risen with the proofs of his physical perfection. He relished in brandishing his unclothed form to the women so fortunate to experience it, and Elias of Stravos raised Demi’s chin so that he had her gaze move from his hips and the length she’d soon be coaxing pleasure from up and along his lean form until she met his eyes. The thumb of his left hand slid between Demi’s lips, intent upon parting them until the digit bent, the tip of it behind her lower front teeth before he was satisfied that she’d keep her mouth open when he released her maw. His digits instead rested against her throat, his moistened thumb pressed into her pulse as his other hand guided the rigid length of him between her lips. The swollen head sought passage into her maw, and he slid himself into her, inch by inch as a sense of curiosity welled within him.
Of course, Demi of Arcana had proved her competence in the slow movements, her spinning and her unabashed display of her body when he’d freed her of her chiton. She’d proven herself worth the summons, but had she yet proven herself worth the fee? He was dubious as to whether his coin was well spent with her, and he had every intention of finding out if the whore knew how to properly suck cock.
”It seems rather obvious,” he answered at last, just as the rigid length twitched within her maw, the lord curious to see if the body slave had learned to quell her gag reflex, as other whores he’d known had.
Of course she knew what she had to do, Demi was not dense. This was her line of work, had been her job for the past almost twenty years now, yet she also knew some clients simply liked stating the obvious. Something about it was validating to their need to be in control, and Demi did validation best. By giving her clients that feeling of being the best, she was almost ensured of returning customers, and she needed that for her livelihood.
Smiling softly as Elias directed her gaze, the brunette did not fight him but merely went as he directed, careful to leave her lips slightly ajar so he would see the moistness within them. As the thumb found its way between her lips, it was met with her tongue, even if there was a growing ache in her lower jaw from how he held it. She was human - but she was also an astoundingly good actress.
Arching her neck to give him access to her throat, Demi took an internal breath for she knew where this was going to lead. Some people got off seeing others suffer, and the old scars hidden on her body was clear that she's been through such clients before. But far be it for her to comment on what got someone else off, her job is only to make sure the endgame happened.
Opening her mouth to take in the revealed length of the lord she was supposed to service, the brunette was careful in ensuring only her moistened lips glided along the surface of the turgid manhood. Demi used her tongue to play upon his skin, as it slid deeper, humming her response to his blatant comment. Of course it was obvious, and technically Demi didn't even need to respond at all - but the humming from the back of her throat would send vibrations to the manhood Elias was sure to feel.
Taking the length in till the back of her throat, the girl could feel her gag reflex kicking in, but quickly quelled it as she readjusted her maw to open it further, and then taking in the whole length until her lips would kiss his sacs. As a younger body slave, Demi had not been capable of taking in such a length, and instead had then resorted to using her hands to cover the rest. But years of practice (for some clients had demanded it of her) meant she could now do it with little difficulty, and luckily for Elias, today was one of her good days.
She could feel the tip of his length touch the top of her throat, and had no doubt that she'd be with a sore throat the next day - but that was a worry for a later day. Instead, her head slowly pulled back again, tongue dragging on the underside of the length as she retracted, and then slid back down, beginning a bobbing movement with her saliva coating the lord's whole length in the warmth of her mouth.
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Of course she knew what she had to do, Demi was not dense. This was her line of work, had been her job for the past almost twenty years now, yet she also knew some clients simply liked stating the obvious. Something about it was validating to their need to be in control, and Demi did validation best. By giving her clients that feeling of being the best, she was almost ensured of returning customers, and she needed that for her livelihood.
Smiling softly as Elias directed her gaze, the brunette did not fight him but merely went as he directed, careful to leave her lips slightly ajar so he would see the moistness within them. As the thumb found its way between her lips, it was met with her tongue, even if there was a growing ache in her lower jaw from how he held it. She was human - but she was also an astoundingly good actress.
Arching her neck to give him access to her throat, Demi took an internal breath for she knew where this was going to lead. Some people got off seeing others suffer, and the old scars hidden on her body was clear that she's been through such clients before. But far be it for her to comment on what got someone else off, her job is only to make sure the endgame happened.
Opening her mouth to take in the revealed length of the lord she was supposed to service, the brunette was careful in ensuring only her moistened lips glided along the surface of the turgid manhood. Demi used her tongue to play upon his skin, as it slid deeper, humming her response to his blatant comment. Of course it was obvious, and technically Demi didn't even need to respond at all - but the humming from the back of her throat would send vibrations to the manhood Elias was sure to feel.
Taking the length in till the back of her throat, the girl could feel her gag reflex kicking in, but quickly quelled it as she readjusted her maw to open it further, and then taking in the whole length until her lips would kiss his sacs. As a younger body slave, Demi had not been capable of taking in such a length, and instead had then resorted to using her hands to cover the rest. But years of practice (for some clients had demanded it of her) meant she could now do it with little difficulty, and luckily for Elias, today was one of her good days.
She could feel the tip of his length touch the top of her throat, and had no doubt that she'd be with a sore throat the next day - but that was a worry for a later day. Instead, her head slowly pulled back again, tongue dragging on the underside of the length as she retracted, and then slid back down, beginning a bobbing movement with her saliva coating the lord's whole length in the warmth of her mouth.
Of course she knew what she had to do, Demi was not dense. This was her line of work, had been her job for the past almost twenty years now, yet she also knew some clients simply liked stating the obvious. Something about it was validating to their need to be in control, and Demi did validation best. By giving her clients that feeling of being the best, she was almost ensured of returning customers, and she needed that for her livelihood.
Smiling softly as Elias directed her gaze, the brunette did not fight him but merely went as he directed, careful to leave her lips slightly ajar so he would see the moistness within them. As the thumb found its way between her lips, it was met with her tongue, even if there was a growing ache in her lower jaw from how he held it. She was human - but she was also an astoundingly good actress.
Arching her neck to give him access to her throat, Demi took an internal breath for she knew where this was going to lead. Some people got off seeing others suffer, and the old scars hidden on her body was clear that she's been through such clients before. But far be it for her to comment on what got someone else off, her job is only to make sure the endgame happened.
Opening her mouth to take in the revealed length of the lord she was supposed to service, the brunette was careful in ensuring only her moistened lips glided along the surface of the turgid manhood. Demi used her tongue to play upon his skin, as it slid deeper, humming her response to his blatant comment. Of course it was obvious, and technically Demi didn't even need to respond at all - but the humming from the back of her throat would send vibrations to the manhood Elias was sure to feel.
Taking the length in till the back of her throat, the girl could feel her gag reflex kicking in, but quickly quelled it as she readjusted her maw to open it further, and then taking in the whole length until her lips would kiss his sacs. As a younger body slave, Demi had not been capable of taking in such a length, and instead had then resorted to using her hands to cover the rest. But years of practice (for some clients had demanded it of her) meant she could now do it with little difficulty, and luckily for Elias, today was one of her good days.
She could feel the tip of his length touch the top of her throat, and had no doubt that she'd be with a sore throat the next day - but that was a worry for a later day. Instead, her head slowly pulled back again, tongue dragging on the underside of the length as she retracted, and then slid back down, beginning a bobbing movement with her saliva coating the lord's whole length in the warmth of her mouth.
Elias of Stravos always wondered, when he'd been offered whores and pleasure be it from friends or business associates what it was that pulled that whore into their profession. For some, he knew it was slavery, the marks upon their wrists and the indentations on their backs as he grasped at their supple flesh. For others, they indulged in what they knew best, or at all, offering themselves to the highest bidder for the coin that carried them through their mundane lives.
It was that thought that turned the Stravos away from the stressors of his world. A fallen baron, just recently given back his lands and his wealth but still imprisoned within the home of his parents, it was a nightmarish position to be in. Athenia had branded him a traitor, and he was, but their knowledge of it was the thing that truly irked him. If he had his way, he'd forsake this whore, tie that pirate menace Lukos along with Aimias of Argyris and the bitch Queen Persephone to the mast of the pirate's ship and provide to Poseidon the proper offering he deserved.
So much did Elias of Stravos despise Xanthos that he imagined the whore sucking his cock in her image. He imagined himself turning the bitch Queen into his puppet, forcing her to her knees and the idea of it caused him to swell within Demi's maw. His hand threaded into her digits as her tongue slathered saliva along the wrinkled flesh of his sacs.
This whore knew what she was doing in ways that he expected Persephone would never know. The queen had a betrothed but the Stravos was learned enough in the gossip shared amongst Athenian women to know that she was not so learned in her ways of pleasure. For gossip turned corners as beggars did and it took less than a silver tongue to coax such information from the gossiping nobility that the Xanthos associated with.
As Elias imagined the queen in the place of the whore, his grasp in Demi's hair tightened. He palmed the back of her head, letting his digits sift tightly into the short locks of the harlot's hair before he pulled her nose first against his pelvis. In and out of her gaping maw he thrust his throbbing length, letting the pleasure weave through his senses until the thin secretion of his pre-cum lapped against the woman's tongue, clung to the roof of her mouth and sifted down her throat. He fucked her throat, uncaring of the discomfort or pain he caused the harlot. Moment upon moment he felt the pleasure wax higher and higher until his head tipped back, minutes passing before the deluge of seed poured down the whores throat. His length slowly but surely waned within her maw.
However, desire wasn't so easy to quell. He unsheathed himself from her mouth after she'd cleaned his length of what seed cling to the shaft and his length engorged just slightly at the pleasure of it. He lifted her to her feet, next. A smirk cast upon his lips as he pried the whore's mouth open, intent on seeing the pearly white beads of his seed still on her tongue. Then, he saw her face for what it was. This was not Persephone of Xanthos. No, this was an exquisite whore and he had every intention of using her further. He closed her mouth, prompting her to swallow his seed before he pushed her forward, intent on having her crash back against his bed, her hands still bound behind her back with no intention of that changing. She was his wrapped up gift to be ravaged and stained with his seed until he could do so no longer.
"And now... on to the main course," he informed her, letting his tongue lash against his upper lip, feeling the dash of sweat that'd seeped from his maw. Her mouth had been a formidable tool, but his length had already swollen anew with one look at his plaything's body and the realization of the dominance with which he could enact upon her. His grasp was decidedly gentle as he let his fingertips drag along her thighs, spreading her legs before he impaled her with the rigid length of him.
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Elias of Stravos always wondered, when he'd been offered whores and pleasure be it from friends or business associates what it was that pulled that whore into their profession. For some, he knew it was slavery, the marks upon their wrists and the indentations on their backs as he grasped at their supple flesh. For others, they indulged in what they knew best, or at all, offering themselves to the highest bidder for the coin that carried them through their mundane lives.
It was that thought that turned the Stravos away from the stressors of his world. A fallen baron, just recently given back his lands and his wealth but still imprisoned within the home of his parents, it was a nightmarish position to be in. Athenia had branded him a traitor, and he was, but their knowledge of it was the thing that truly irked him. If he had his way, he'd forsake this whore, tie that pirate menace Lukos along with Aimias of Argyris and the bitch Queen Persephone to the mast of the pirate's ship and provide to Poseidon the proper offering he deserved.
So much did Elias of Stravos despise Xanthos that he imagined the whore sucking his cock in her image. He imagined himself turning the bitch Queen into his puppet, forcing her to her knees and the idea of it caused him to swell within Demi's maw. His hand threaded into her digits as her tongue slathered saliva along the wrinkled flesh of his sacs.
This whore knew what she was doing in ways that he expected Persephone would never know. The queen had a betrothed but the Stravos was learned enough in the gossip shared amongst Athenian women to know that she was not so learned in her ways of pleasure. For gossip turned corners as beggars did and it took less than a silver tongue to coax such information from the gossiping nobility that the Xanthos associated with.
As Elias imagined the queen in the place of the whore, his grasp in Demi's hair tightened. He palmed the back of her head, letting his digits sift tightly into the short locks of the harlot's hair before he pulled her nose first against his pelvis. In and out of her gaping maw he thrust his throbbing length, letting the pleasure weave through his senses until the thin secretion of his pre-cum lapped against the woman's tongue, clung to the roof of her mouth and sifted down her throat. He fucked her throat, uncaring of the discomfort or pain he caused the harlot. Moment upon moment he felt the pleasure wax higher and higher until his head tipped back, minutes passing before the deluge of seed poured down the whores throat. His length slowly but surely waned within her maw.
However, desire wasn't so easy to quell. He unsheathed himself from her mouth after she'd cleaned his length of what seed cling to the shaft and his length engorged just slightly at the pleasure of it. He lifted her to her feet, next. A smirk cast upon his lips as he pried the whore's mouth open, intent on seeing the pearly white beads of his seed still on her tongue. Then, he saw her face for what it was. This was not Persephone of Xanthos. No, this was an exquisite whore and he had every intention of using her further. He closed her mouth, prompting her to swallow his seed before he pushed her forward, intent on having her crash back against his bed, her hands still bound behind her back with no intention of that changing. She was his wrapped up gift to be ravaged and stained with his seed until he could do so no longer.
"And now... on to the main course," he informed her, letting his tongue lash against his upper lip, feeling the dash of sweat that'd seeped from his maw. Her mouth had been a formidable tool, but his length had already swollen anew with one look at his plaything's body and the realization of the dominance with which he could enact upon her. His grasp was decidedly gentle as he let his fingertips drag along her thighs, spreading her legs before he impaled her with the rigid length of him.
Elias of Stravos always wondered, when he'd been offered whores and pleasure be it from friends or business associates what it was that pulled that whore into their profession. For some, he knew it was slavery, the marks upon their wrists and the indentations on their backs as he grasped at their supple flesh. For others, they indulged in what they knew best, or at all, offering themselves to the highest bidder for the coin that carried them through their mundane lives.
It was that thought that turned the Stravos away from the stressors of his world. A fallen baron, just recently given back his lands and his wealth but still imprisoned within the home of his parents, it was a nightmarish position to be in. Athenia had branded him a traitor, and he was, but their knowledge of it was the thing that truly irked him. If he had his way, he'd forsake this whore, tie that pirate menace Lukos along with Aimias of Argyris and the bitch Queen Persephone to the mast of the pirate's ship and provide to Poseidon the proper offering he deserved.
So much did Elias of Stravos despise Xanthos that he imagined the whore sucking his cock in her image. He imagined himself turning the bitch Queen into his puppet, forcing her to her knees and the idea of it caused him to swell within Demi's maw. His hand threaded into her digits as her tongue slathered saliva along the wrinkled flesh of his sacs.
This whore knew what she was doing in ways that he expected Persephone would never know. The queen had a betrothed but the Stravos was learned enough in the gossip shared amongst Athenian women to know that she was not so learned in her ways of pleasure. For gossip turned corners as beggars did and it took less than a silver tongue to coax such information from the gossiping nobility that the Xanthos associated with.
As Elias imagined the queen in the place of the whore, his grasp in Demi's hair tightened. He palmed the back of her head, letting his digits sift tightly into the short locks of the harlot's hair before he pulled her nose first against his pelvis. In and out of her gaping maw he thrust his throbbing length, letting the pleasure weave through his senses until the thin secretion of his pre-cum lapped against the woman's tongue, clung to the roof of her mouth and sifted down her throat. He fucked her throat, uncaring of the discomfort or pain he caused the harlot. Moment upon moment he felt the pleasure wax higher and higher until his head tipped back, minutes passing before the deluge of seed poured down the whores throat. His length slowly but surely waned within her maw.
However, desire wasn't so easy to quell. He unsheathed himself from her mouth after she'd cleaned his length of what seed cling to the shaft and his length engorged just slightly at the pleasure of it. He lifted her to her feet, next. A smirk cast upon his lips as he pried the whore's mouth open, intent on seeing the pearly white beads of his seed still on her tongue. Then, he saw her face for what it was. This was not Persephone of Xanthos. No, this was an exquisite whore and he had every intention of using her further. He closed her mouth, prompting her to swallow his seed before he pushed her forward, intent on having her crash back against his bed, her hands still bound behind her back with no intention of that changing. She was his wrapped up gift to be ravaged and stained with his seed until he could do so no longer.
"And now... on to the main course," he informed her, letting his tongue lash against his upper lip, feeling the dash of sweat that'd seeped from his maw. Her mouth had been a formidable tool, but his length had already swollen anew with one look at his plaything's body and the realization of the dominance with which he could enact upon her. His grasp was decidedly gentle as he let his fingertips drag along her thighs, spreading her legs before he impaled her with the rigid length of him.
Demi had perfected her art over the years. Hard to not be good at something when you've done it for over a decade afterall, and as such, when Elias's manhood grew larger within her, Demi simply paused for a moment to get used to the girth, before shifting her joints to accomodate for the size, almost never slowing in her movements. The sudden movement of him shoving her until her nose brushed his skin had a sudden sound of choking come from her, but she never gave any other reaction, merely laved her tongue and serviced the lord until he came all over her tongue.
The load dribbled down the sides of her mouth, but for the large part, Demi swallowed the load, a habit she was used to. It felt uncomfortable going down, due to the rough way in which Elias had fucked her throat, and the woman had no doubt she'd have a sore throat in the days to come, still as he withdrew, she made sure her tongue caught every last drop, before flashing her long llashes at the male as she awaited his next instructions.
Having no warning of his next movements, a surprised gasp escaped Demi's lips when he suddenly pushed her. The woman found the back of her knees against the bed, and without the help of her hands, could do nothing more then fall backwards into the bed, wincing when her bound hands received the weight of her body.
There was no question as to what the main course was, of course, but it still came a little as a surprise when the lord's fingertips brushed like a light dance across her skin. Demi was almost surprised at how light it was, especially when she contrasted with how roughly he shoved himself into her entrance that was still semi-moist and not yet fully slick. The friction made her cry, although the cry could be mistaken for one of pleasure as her legs fell open before him, her head thrown back at the sudden intrusion.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Demi had perfected her art over the years. Hard to not be good at something when you've done it for over a decade afterall, and as such, when Elias's manhood grew larger within her, Demi simply paused for a moment to get used to the girth, before shifting her joints to accomodate for the size, almost never slowing in her movements. The sudden movement of him shoving her until her nose brushed his skin had a sudden sound of choking come from her, but she never gave any other reaction, merely laved her tongue and serviced the lord until he came all over her tongue.
The load dribbled down the sides of her mouth, but for the large part, Demi swallowed the load, a habit she was used to. It felt uncomfortable going down, due to the rough way in which Elias had fucked her throat, and the woman had no doubt she'd have a sore throat in the days to come, still as he withdrew, she made sure her tongue caught every last drop, before flashing her long llashes at the male as she awaited his next instructions.
Having no warning of his next movements, a surprised gasp escaped Demi's lips when he suddenly pushed her. The woman found the back of her knees against the bed, and without the help of her hands, could do nothing more then fall backwards into the bed, wincing when her bound hands received the weight of her body.
There was no question as to what the main course was, of course, but it still came a little as a surprise when the lord's fingertips brushed like a light dance across her skin. Demi was almost surprised at how light it was, especially when she contrasted with how roughly he shoved himself into her entrance that was still semi-moist and not yet fully slick. The friction made her cry, although the cry could be mistaken for one of pleasure as her legs fell open before him, her head thrown back at the sudden intrusion.
Demi had perfected her art over the years. Hard to not be good at something when you've done it for over a decade afterall, and as such, when Elias's manhood grew larger within her, Demi simply paused for a moment to get used to the girth, before shifting her joints to accomodate for the size, almost never slowing in her movements. The sudden movement of him shoving her until her nose brushed his skin had a sudden sound of choking come from her, but she never gave any other reaction, merely laved her tongue and serviced the lord until he came all over her tongue.
The load dribbled down the sides of her mouth, but for the large part, Demi swallowed the load, a habit she was used to. It felt uncomfortable going down, due to the rough way in which Elias had fucked her throat, and the woman had no doubt she'd have a sore throat in the days to come, still as he withdrew, she made sure her tongue caught every last drop, before flashing her long llashes at the male as she awaited his next instructions.
Having no warning of his next movements, a surprised gasp escaped Demi's lips when he suddenly pushed her. The woman found the back of her knees against the bed, and without the help of her hands, could do nothing more then fall backwards into the bed, wincing when her bound hands received the weight of her body.
There was no question as to what the main course was, of course, but it still came a little as a surprise when the lord's fingertips brushed like a light dance across her skin. Demi was almost surprised at how light it was, especially when she contrasted with how roughly he shoved himself into her entrance that was still semi-moist and not yet fully slick. The friction made her cry, although the cry could be mistaken for one of pleasure as her legs fell open before him, her head thrown back at the sudden intrusion.
Demi was a bought and delivered whore and the Headlord of Stravos took little in terms of measure to bring her any sort of pleasure. It was a measure of pride for Elias to coax the throes of desire from the hearts and bodies of royalty, but he felt no such compulsion here. Demi of Arcana was nothing but a beautiful face, and the Stravos made sure to make it clear with how he violated her throat and claimed her body that she was little more than a diversion to him.
However, there was a measure of discomfort as he plunged into her entrance, her damp but otherwise un-stimulated sex welcoming him in with hesitance. The Stravos shifted his position, bringing his digits to toy with the nub of Demi's clitoris as his throbbing length sought to drive deeper into her. His lips laid claim to the woman's throat, his teeth worrying at smooth flesh as a low groan of his desire vibrated against her skin. He took his time, his touch growing rougher, his free hand kneading into her hips as his digits continued to stimulate her. Once he was satisfied that she'd grown slick enough to welcome him in earnest, both hands shifted until the knots that held her hands behind her back were undone.
"Touch me," he offered, giving her permission to lay her fingers on the exquisite flesh of the godly Elias of Stravos. There were so very few with this woman's station who could ever know that honor. Elias shifted his weight, hands claiming at Demi's thighs with the intention of lifting them somewhat into the air. He drove himself into her, his pace growing wilder as desire threw him into the throes of passion. Want was a heady thing, pulling Elias into a frenzy that sought nothing but satisfaction. Not just for himself, but the compulsion to dominate, to ensnare ran its course and he'd be intent on bringing the abused whore along for the ride. She was his plaything, her body his playground to explore and lay his claim upon with an eagerness that betrayed the calm that had persisted before.
Anger wilted away from Elias of Stravos as Demi's body engulfed his length, as he impaled her and sought to ravish the whore with every bit of strength available to his lean body. His chest pressed tightly into her breasts, his hands claiming flesh. Nails wore angry red lines along her hips and thighs as the voracious hunger waxed higher and higher, and certainly, Elias of Stravos tasted the hint of himself against her lips as he claimed her in an ardent kiss. He'd not waste to much effort on pleasing a whore, but want was an instinctive thing. Elias of Stravos did not differentiate between harlot and royal once he'd begun to lay his claim.
"Know me. For these nights, I am your master," he informed the harlot, the fingers of one hand rising to thread his digits into Demi's short curls. He pulled her head back, his tongue toying at the flesh of her pulse as thrust after thrust sought to embroil them in a frenzy of sensation.
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Demi was a bought and delivered whore and the Headlord of Stravos took little in terms of measure to bring her any sort of pleasure. It was a measure of pride for Elias to coax the throes of desire from the hearts and bodies of royalty, but he felt no such compulsion here. Demi of Arcana was nothing but a beautiful face, and the Stravos made sure to make it clear with how he violated her throat and claimed her body that she was little more than a diversion to him.
However, there was a measure of discomfort as he plunged into her entrance, her damp but otherwise un-stimulated sex welcoming him in with hesitance. The Stravos shifted his position, bringing his digits to toy with the nub of Demi's clitoris as his throbbing length sought to drive deeper into her. His lips laid claim to the woman's throat, his teeth worrying at smooth flesh as a low groan of his desire vibrated against her skin. He took his time, his touch growing rougher, his free hand kneading into her hips as his digits continued to stimulate her. Once he was satisfied that she'd grown slick enough to welcome him in earnest, both hands shifted until the knots that held her hands behind her back were undone.
"Touch me," he offered, giving her permission to lay her fingers on the exquisite flesh of the godly Elias of Stravos. There were so very few with this woman's station who could ever know that honor. Elias shifted his weight, hands claiming at Demi's thighs with the intention of lifting them somewhat into the air. He drove himself into her, his pace growing wilder as desire threw him into the throes of passion. Want was a heady thing, pulling Elias into a frenzy that sought nothing but satisfaction. Not just for himself, but the compulsion to dominate, to ensnare ran its course and he'd be intent on bringing the abused whore along for the ride. She was his plaything, her body his playground to explore and lay his claim upon with an eagerness that betrayed the calm that had persisted before.
Anger wilted away from Elias of Stravos as Demi's body engulfed his length, as he impaled her and sought to ravish the whore with every bit of strength available to his lean body. His chest pressed tightly into her breasts, his hands claiming flesh. Nails wore angry red lines along her hips and thighs as the voracious hunger waxed higher and higher, and certainly, Elias of Stravos tasted the hint of himself against her lips as he claimed her in an ardent kiss. He'd not waste to much effort on pleasing a whore, but want was an instinctive thing. Elias of Stravos did not differentiate between harlot and royal once he'd begun to lay his claim.
"Know me. For these nights, I am your master," he informed the harlot, the fingers of one hand rising to thread his digits into Demi's short curls. He pulled her head back, his tongue toying at the flesh of her pulse as thrust after thrust sought to embroil them in a frenzy of sensation.
Demi was a bought and delivered whore and the Headlord of Stravos took little in terms of measure to bring her any sort of pleasure. It was a measure of pride for Elias to coax the throes of desire from the hearts and bodies of royalty, but he felt no such compulsion here. Demi of Arcana was nothing but a beautiful face, and the Stravos made sure to make it clear with how he violated her throat and claimed her body that she was little more than a diversion to him.
However, there was a measure of discomfort as he plunged into her entrance, her damp but otherwise un-stimulated sex welcoming him in with hesitance. The Stravos shifted his position, bringing his digits to toy with the nub of Demi's clitoris as his throbbing length sought to drive deeper into her. His lips laid claim to the woman's throat, his teeth worrying at smooth flesh as a low groan of his desire vibrated against her skin. He took his time, his touch growing rougher, his free hand kneading into her hips as his digits continued to stimulate her. Once he was satisfied that she'd grown slick enough to welcome him in earnest, both hands shifted until the knots that held her hands behind her back were undone.
"Touch me," he offered, giving her permission to lay her fingers on the exquisite flesh of the godly Elias of Stravos. There were so very few with this woman's station who could ever know that honor. Elias shifted his weight, hands claiming at Demi's thighs with the intention of lifting them somewhat into the air. He drove himself into her, his pace growing wilder as desire threw him into the throes of passion. Want was a heady thing, pulling Elias into a frenzy that sought nothing but satisfaction. Not just for himself, but the compulsion to dominate, to ensnare ran its course and he'd be intent on bringing the abused whore along for the ride. She was his plaything, her body his playground to explore and lay his claim upon with an eagerness that betrayed the calm that had persisted before.
Anger wilted away from Elias of Stravos as Demi's body engulfed his length, as he impaled her and sought to ravish the whore with every bit of strength available to his lean body. His chest pressed tightly into her breasts, his hands claiming flesh. Nails wore angry red lines along her hips and thighs as the voracious hunger waxed higher and higher, and certainly, Elias of Stravos tasted the hint of himself against her lips as he claimed her in an ardent kiss. He'd not waste to much effort on pleasing a whore, but want was an instinctive thing. Elias of Stravos did not differentiate between harlot and royal once he'd begun to lay his claim.
"Know me. For these nights, I am your master," he informed the harlot, the fingers of one hand rising to thread his digits into Demi's short curls. He pulled her head back, his tongue toying at the flesh of her pulse as thrust after thrust sought to embroil them in a frenzy of sensation.
She knew her clients did not always seek her pleasure. Demi could not count the number of times she had ended a night throbbing and painful, and not in a pleasurable way. A few times she's had to turn Hector away, simply because her private area's felt too raw to the touch. Some found pleasure in her discomfort, but it would seem the lord of Stravos needed some measure of slickness too. When his fingers found her pearl, Demi gave a surprised gasp (for not many bothered) before she shuddered with reluctant pleasure. While Demi hated the fact that her body reacted that way, she knew it was necessary for the duty, and merely allowed it, her legs falling apart wider as the pleasurable tingles coaxed the wetness within her to make her passage smoother.
The knots being undone surprised her, for she suddenly had use of her hands, to which she immediately acquiesed to his demand by placing first on his chest, and then running them down the musculature of the lord's body. It was in no comparision to her lover's, for Hector's was sculpted from years of military training, but Demi was trained in ensuring her touch seemed reverent, almost as if she was praying to a God as she moaned and brushed her fingers against Elias's nipples, and then down to his bottom.
Shifting to allow him to press her thigh further open, her head was thrown back in the unwanted pleasure that came from Elias's pace, each thrust met with a low cry from Demi as it hit the bundle of nerves within her. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his bottom as he drove himself within her, and lust was an all consuming desire when it peaked over logic and reason. "Yes, master." she moaned out, arching her back to press closer to him in a show of want. Demi had long learend that somehow, if she showed herself in need of the male, they took a heady pleasure off of it, one of the many services she provided, to make her partners feel wanted.
Her head went with his tug, her hips meeting his every thrust as her hands wandered over to his back, before hooking them under his arms to act the clinging, desperate lover for completion, the pleasure building within her even despite her reluctance. Demi closed her eyes, for a brief moment imagining it to be Hector to alleviete her own guilt through the emotions, and her cries grew with her own imagination. "I'm yours to do as you please, master." she cried out in between thrusts, a willing puppet to the lord's ministrations.
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She knew her clients did not always seek her pleasure. Demi could not count the number of times she had ended a night throbbing and painful, and not in a pleasurable way. A few times she's had to turn Hector away, simply because her private area's felt too raw to the touch. Some found pleasure in her discomfort, but it would seem the lord of Stravos needed some measure of slickness too. When his fingers found her pearl, Demi gave a surprised gasp (for not many bothered) before she shuddered with reluctant pleasure. While Demi hated the fact that her body reacted that way, she knew it was necessary for the duty, and merely allowed it, her legs falling apart wider as the pleasurable tingles coaxed the wetness within her to make her passage smoother.
The knots being undone surprised her, for she suddenly had use of her hands, to which she immediately acquiesed to his demand by placing first on his chest, and then running them down the musculature of the lord's body. It was in no comparision to her lover's, for Hector's was sculpted from years of military training, but Demi was trained in ensuring her touch seemed reverent, almost as if she was praying to a God as she moaned and brushed her fingers against Elias's nipples, and then down to his bottom.
Shifting to allow him to press her thigh further open, her head was thrown back in the unwanted pleasure that came from Elias's pace, each thrust met with a low cry from Demi as it hit the bundle of nerves within her. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his bottom as he drove himself within her, and lust was an all consuming desire when it peaked over logic and reason. "Yes, master." she moaned out, arching her back to press closer to him in a show of want. Demi had long learend that somehow, if she showed herself in need of the male, they took a heady pleasure off of it, one of the many services she provided, to make her partners feel wanted.
Her head went with his tug, her hips meeting his every thrust as her hands wandered over to his back, before hooking them under his arms to act the clinging, desperate lover for completion, the pleasure building within her even despite her reluctance. Demi closed her eyes, for a brief moment imagining it to be Hector to alleviete her own guilt through the emotions, and her cries grew with her own imagination. "I'm yours to do as you please, master." she cried out in between thrusts, a willing puppet to the lord's ministrations.
She knew her clients did not always seek her pleasure. Demi could not count the number of times she had ended a night throbbing and painful, and not in a pleasurable way. A few times she's had to turn Hector away, simply because her private area's felt too raw to the touch. Some found pleasure in her discomfort, but it would seem the lord of Stravos needed some measure of slickness too. When his fingers found her pearl, Demi gave a surprised gasp (for not many bothered) before she shuddered with reluctant pleasure. While Demi hated the fact that her body reacted that way, she knew it was necessary for the duty, and merely allowed it, her legs falling apart wider as the pleasurable tingles coaxed the wetness within her to make her passage smoother.
The knots being undone surprised her, for she suddenly had use of her hands, to which she immediately acquiesed to his demand by placing first on his chest, and then running them down the musculature of the lord's body. It was in no comparision to her lover's, for Hector's was sculpted from years of military training, but Demi was trained in ensuring her touch seemed reverent, almost as if she was praying to a God as she moaned and brushed her fingers against Elias's nipples, and then down to his bottom.
Shifting to allow him to press her thigh further open, her head was thrown back in the unwanted pleasure that came from Elias's pace, each thrust met with a low cry from Demi as it hit the bundle of nerves within her. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his bottom as he drove himself within her, and lust was an all consuming desire when it peaked over logic and reason. "Yes, master." she moaned out, arching her back to press closer to him in a show of want. Demi had long learend that somehow, if she showed herself in need of the male, they took a heady pleasure off of it, one of the many services she provided, to make her partners feel wanted.
Her head went with his tug, her hips meeting his every thrust as her hands wandered over to his back, before hooking them under his arms to act the clinging, desperate lover for completion, the pleasure building within her even despite her reluctance. Demi closed her eyes, for a brief moment imagining it to be Hector to alleviete her own guilt through the emotions, and her cries grew with her own imagination. "I'm yours to do as you please, master." she cried out in between thrusts, a willing puppet to the lord's ministrations.
Cruelty was a thing in which Elias of Stravos delighted in administering. To bring pain onto others was a lesson imparted, but the agony that permeated within their lives for even the slightest of offenses to his house or person was the reward. However, there were limits to Elias' cruelty, and he found that delving into pleasure was best served with that same pleasure rather than twisting the knife of pain into the experience. That wasn't to say, of course, that pain lacked any sort of place in the bedroom... but Elias of Stravos kept his darker impulses under control for the sake of pure indulgence.
It was this flicker of mercy within him that sought to liberate Demi of her bonds, that sought to moisten her entrance and make his passage within her all the sweeter. It was a deep-seeded desire to turn those women so fortunate to enter his embrace to pleasure, for he'd learned their minds far more easily manipulated when such an experience was there to soften their disposition to him. Elias did not need this whore to love or even like him, but he desired her body to consider him exactly what he was to her in the moment -- its master.
Yes, master, he heard her moan out for the first time, her back arched and her expression turned to that of pleasure. Pleasure flooded the Stravos' senses at that admission, given so freely from the whore's lips. Whether it was genuine or a fabrication, truly, in the moment mattered for naught. He was what she said he was, and he had every intention of listening to those moans and cries grow louder and more fervent with time. His pace continued, his throbbing girth nestled deeply within her core. With each moan, his desire grew more ardent, with each time he pierced her, the member that took her quivered with delight.
I'm yours to do with as you please, master, she followed, and Elias of Stravos relished in the utterance of them. His fingers knotted tightly within her hair, pulling the woman into a kiss that seemed born of fire. The heir to Stravos was flushed, not from embarrassment or surprise at her words but from the exertion of ravishing her. However, Elias of Stravos had no intention of watching this whore close her eyes, even if her words turned into the direction of his choosing. She could imagine the world away as she was, and the selfish lord wanted her to live in the moment with him. Fingers clutched at Demi's jawline, his thumb kneading roughly into her cheek as his pace increased further still. Each movement had her flung against his bed, the sound of flesh meeting flesh palpable, but lower than the voice in her ear as he murmured,
"Look at me, whore. Open your eyes and drink in the sight of your master."
A smirk carved upon Elias' lips as he issued the command, his free hand sliding beneath her body, sifting where the arch of her back exposed a space for him to hold her towards him. Nails grazed at the small of her back before he grasped at her hips, his grasp bruising with its firmness. She was his plaything and his concern for her waxed towards non-existent. To hear her cries, to feel her body as it surrendered to pleasure... For him, that was enough.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Cruelty was a thing in which Elias of Stravos delighted in administering. To bring pain onto others was a lesson imparted, but the agony that permeated within their lives for even the slightest of offenses to his house or person was the reward. However, there were limits to Elias' cruelty, and he found that delving into pleasure was best served with that same pleasure rather than twisting the knife of pain into the experience. That wasn't to say, of course, that pain lacked any sort of place in the bedroom... but Elias of Stravos kept his darker impulses under control for the sake of pure indulgence.
It was this flicker of mercy within him that sought to liberate Demi of her bonds, that sought to moisten her entrance and make his passage within her all the sweeter. It was a deep-seeded desire to turn those women so fortunate to enter his embrace to pleasure, for he'd learned their minds far more easily manipulated when such an experience was there to soften their disposition to him. Elias did not need this whore to love or even like him, but he desired her body to consider him exactly what he was to her in the moment -- its master.
Yes, master, he heard her moan out for the first time, her back arched and her expression turned to that of pleasure. Pleasure flooded the Stravos' senses at that admission, given so freely from the whore's lips. Whether it was genuine or a fabrication, truly, in the moment mattered for naught. He was what she said he was, and he had every intention of listening to those moans and cries grow louder and more fervent with time. His pace continued, his throbbing girth nestled deeply within her core. With each moan, his desire grew more ardent, with each time he pierced her, the member that took her quivered with delight.
I'm yours to do with as you please, master, she followed, and Elias of Stravos relished in the utterance of them. His fingers knotted tightly within her hair, pulling the woman into a kiss that seemed born of fire. The heir to Stravos was flushed, not from embarrassment or surprise at her words but from the exertion of ravishing her. However, Elias of Stravos had no intention of watching this whore close her eyes, even if her words turned into the direction of his choosing. She could imagine the world away as she was, and the selfish lord wanted her to live in the moment with him. Fingers clutched at Demi's jawline, his thumb kneading roughly into her cheek as his pace increased further still. Each movement had her flung against his bed, the sound of flesh meeting flesh palpable, but lower than the voice in her ear as he murmured,
"Look at me, whore. Open your eyes and drink in the sight of your master."
A smirk carved upon Elias' lips as he issued the command, his free hand sliding beneath her body, sifting where the arch of her back exposed a space for him to hold her towards him. Nails grazed at the small of her back before he grasped at her hips, his grasp bruising with its firmness. She was his plaything and his concern for her waxed towards non-existent. To hear her cries, to feel her body as it surrendered to pleasure... For him, that was enough.
Cruelty was a thing in which Elias of Stravos delighted in administering. To bring pain onto others was a lesson imparted, but the agony that permeated within their lives for even the slightest of offenses to his house or person was the reward. However, there were limits to Elias' cruelty, and he found that delving into pleasure was best served with that same pleasure rather than twisting the knife of pain into the experience. That wasn't to say, of course, that pain lacked any sort of place in the bedroom... but Elias of Stravos kept his darker impulses under control for the sake of pure indulgence.
It was this flicker of mercy within him that sought to liberate Demi of her bonds, that sought to moisten her entrance and make his passage within her all the sweeter. It was a deep-seeded desire to turn those women so fortunate to enter his embrace to pleasure, for he'd learned their minds far more easily manipulated when such an experience was there to soften their disposition to him. Elias did not need this whore to love or even like him, but he desired her body to consider him exactly what he was to her in the moment -- its master.
Yes, master, he heard her moan out for the first time, her back arched and her expression turned to that of pleasure. Pleasure flooded the Stravos' senses at that admission, given so freely from the whore's lips. Whether it was genuine or a fabrication, truly, in the moment mattered for naught. He was what she said he was, and he had every intention of listening to those moans and cries grow louder and more fervent with time. His pace continued, his throbbing girth nestled deeply within her core. With each moan, his desire grew more ardent, with each time he pierced her, the member that took her quivered with delight.
I'm yours to do with as you please, master, she followed, and Elias of Stravos relished in the utterance of them. His fingers knotted tightly within her hair, pulling the woman into a kiss that seemed born of fire. The heir to Stravos was flushed, not from embarrassment or surprise at her words but from the exertion of ravishing her. However, Elias of Stravos had no intention of watching this whore close her eyes, even if her words turned into the direction of his choosing. She could imagine the world away as she was, and the selfish lord wanted her to live in the moment with him. Fingers clutched at Demi's jawline, his thumb kneading roughly into her cheek as his pace increased further still. Each movement had her flung against his bed, the sound of flesh meeting flesh palpable, but lower than the voice in her ear as he murmured,
"Look at me, whore. Open your eyes and drink in the sight of your master."
A smirk carved upon Elias' lips as he issued the command, his free hand sliding beneath her body, sifting where the arch of her back exposed a space for him to hold her towards him. Nails grazed at the small of her back before he grasped at her hips, his grasp bruising with its firmness. She was his plaything and his concern for her waxed towards non-existent. To hear her cries, to feel her body as it surrendered to pleasure... For him, that was enough.
It would seem her client enjoyed it, from the way he tightened his hold in her hair, and the way his movements quickened. To be good at her job, Demi had sharpened the way in which she read people, be it through words or through actions. That way, she managed to serve them exactly what they wanted, refined on their highest palate, and that was what made Demi such a sought after pleasure worker. She worked not for money, but for the happiness and pleasure of her clients. The woman had long learned that working for money brought money, but when one worked to satisfy their clients to the highest form of desire, what she got in return was fame, which brought wealth.
Yet, not every client was easily bought over.
Left with no choice, Demi pried her eyes open, disappointment blooming in small wildflowers that she could no longer imagine the intrusion into her body being that of her lover's welcome touch. Instead, she was forced to acknowledge the beautiful, blond lord as the current master of her body from the way he touched her jawline, even as she was pushed into the bed. The furniture creaked, heard only between the sound of skin slapping skin, but the whisper in her ear brought a shiver down her spine.
"Yes, master." she keened, crying out again when she felt his nails graze her back, and then pulling her even closer to his hips. Every push of the Stravos lord grazed against her sensitive nub, the aftershocks of pleasure making the knot at the base of her belly grow with each touch. It was rare for Demi to reach her own peak with clients. That was an occurence that was left solely to Hector to take care of, but she had became an expert actress in acting her reaching her own climax. But would Elias be a different sort then? Already, Demi could feel the quickening of her blood as he moved within her slicked passage, and instinctively her legs hooked behind the lord's bottom, moving along with him.
Noting how the man loved the acknowledgement of his status, Demi's fingers curled into the sheets as she managed out in between moans and thrusts, "Do I please you, my lord Elias?"
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It would seem her client enjoyed it, from the way he tightened his hold in her hair, and the way his movements quickened. To be good at her job, Demi had sharpened the way in which she read people, be it through words or through actions. That way, she managed to serve them exactly what they wanted, refined on their highest palate, and that was what made Demi such a sought after pleasure worker. She worked not for money, but for the happiness and pleasure of her clients. The woman had long learned that working for money brought money, but when one worked to satisfy their clients to the highest form of desire, what she got in return was fame, which brought wealth.
Yet, not every client was easily bought over.
Left with no choice, Demi pried her eyes open, disappointment blooming in small wildflowers that she could no longer imagine the intrusion into her body being that of her lover's welcome touch. Instead, she was forced to acknowledge the beautiful, blond lord as the current master of her body from the way he touched her jawline, even as she was pushed into the bed. The furniture creaked, heard only between the sound of skin slapping skin, but the whisper in her ear brought a shiver down her spine.
"Yes, master." she keened, crying out again when she felt his nails graze her back, and then pulling her even closer to his hips. Every push of the Stravos lord grazed against her sensitive nub, the aftershocks of pleasure making the knot at the base of her belly grow with each touch. It was rare for Demi to reach her own peak with clients. That was an occurence that was left solely to Hector to take care of, but she had became an expert actress in acting her reaching her own climax. But would Elias be a different sort then? Already, Demi could feel the quickening of her blood as he moved within her slicked passage, and instinctively her legs hooked behind the lord's bottom, moving along with him.
Noting how the man loved the acknowledgement of his status, Demi's fingers curled into the sheets as she managed out in between moans and thrusts, "Do I please you, my lord Elias?"
It would seem her client enjoyed it, from the way he tightened his hold in her hair, and the way his movements quickened. To be good at her job, Demi had sharpened the way in which she read people, be it through words or through actions. That way, she managed to serve them exactly what they wanted, refined on their highest palate, and that was what made Demi such a sought after pleasure worker. She worked not for money, but for the happiness and pleasure of her clients. The woman had long learned that working for money brought money, but when one worked to satisfy their clients to the highest form of desire, what she got in return was fame, which brought wealth.
Yet, not every client was easily bought over.
Left with no choice, Demi pried her eyes open, disappointment blooming in small wildflowers that she could no longer imagine the intrusion into her body being that of her lover's welcome touch. Instead, she was forced to acknowledge the beautiful, blond lord as the current master of her body from the way he touched her jawline, even as she was pushed into the bed. The furniture creaked, heard only between the sound of skin slapping skin, but the whisper in her ear brought a shiver down her spine.
"Yes, master." she keened, crying out again when she felt his nails graze her back, and then pulling her even closer to his hips. Every push of the Stravos lord grazed against her sensitive nub, the aftershocks of pleasure making the knot at the base of her belly grow with each touch. It was rare for Demi to reach her own peak with clients. That was an occurence that was left solely to Hector to take care of, but she had became an expert actress in acting her reaching her own climax. But would Elias be a different sort then? Already, Demi could feel the quickening of her blood as he moved within her slicked passage, and instinctively her legs hooked behind the lord's bottom, moving along with him.
Noting how the man loved the acknowledgement of his status, Demi's fingers curled into the sheets as she managed out in between moans and thrusts, "Do I please you, my lord Elias?"
This whore is worth every bit of the sum paid for her service, the Strvos ruminated as he took her with him on this exquisite journey to the depths of pleasure. Her body was a delicious distraction, a welcome vice to shield him from the tireless rage that worked itself within every thought before her arrival. Of course, she was also the outlet, his relentless pace within her, the force with which he grasped at her body and the eagerness with which he left bruises on her all evidence of that fact. Elias of Stravos was not known for his mercy, but the pleasure he instilled within Demi was anything but merciful. She was his puppet, his plaything, her body his distraction and the reward of his well-spent coin and he had every right to take her as he pleased.
Dominion was part and parcel to the existence that was Elias of Stravos, the inevitable outcome of a life of believing in the very real fact that he simply was... better. From divinely-ordained beauty that sought to captivate any who looked upon him to the superior intellect with which he'd received the earlier accolades of his career as a baron... it was an error in judgment that brought Elias to the lowest point in his life. He felt the rage fester within his soul as his mind flickered for the briefest of moments to his so recent disgrace, and he knew buried deep within his rage was the second wind of arousal. The desire curled his digits into Demi's hair, it brought him to meet the whore's eyes as he ravaged her sex and pressed his chest so ardently into her full breasts. The heat of her body against his, the way her legs knotted themselves around Elias of Stravos...
Even an experienced whore can succumb to the divine power of Elias of Stravos, he assured himself, his lips curved into a smirk.
Elias sought for the woman to chase her climax before he did, a sign of his fortuitous skill and the expectation given that his seed likely still clung to her throat from her previous ministrations. Elias of Stravos reveled in his use of every part of her body, delighted in the ravishment that was his to complete. This was but the first of their days together, the woman in his embrace to act both as recipient of his rage and a warmer for his bed in the absence of other woman able to visit him in this time of being home-bound. He no longer felt such discomfort in being confined to his home, for to indulge in Demi of Arcana was every bit the pleasure he could seek out elsewhere with none of the obligation to sway hearts and minds with sultry conversation.
Her question brought a curious expression to Elias' lips. Was it not apparent by the way he ravished her that he was enjoying himself? Or was she simply seeking his approval aloud for her own satisfaction? Certainly, her utterances, the repeated acknowledgement of his mastery over her body and the status he held again as 'lord' were appeals to his vanity... but nonetheless the asking of it brought a chuckle fromhis lips. He allowed his lips to settle upon her throat, rising along the racing pulse beneath her skin before the hand not wound within her hair moved to clutch at the woman's rear. The pressure he wrought was bruising before he struck the supple flesh, intent upon bringing her sex to clamp down upon him like a vise in his efforts to reach their mutual satisfaction.
"You've done well, whore. But, you still have much to prove," he decided. Never was any one orgasm, any one appeal to his vanity, or any one woman enough to satisfy the voracious appetite that was Elias' greed. But, Demi of Arcana had done well and he'd concede that much to her skill.
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This whore is worth every bit of the sum paid for her service, the Strvos ruminated as he took her with him on this exquisite journey to the depths of pleasure. Her body was a delicious distraction, a welcome vice to shield him from the tireless rage that worked itself within every thought before her arrival. Of course, she was also the outlet, his relentless pace within her, the force with which he grasped at her body and the eagerness with which he left bruises on her all evidence of that fact. Elias of Stravos was not known for his mercy, but the pleasure he instilled within Demi was anything but merciful. She was his puppet, his plaything, her body his distraction and the reward of his well-spent coin and he had every right to take her as he pleased.
Dominion was part and parcel to the existence that was Elias of Stravos, the inevitable outcome of a life of believing in the very real fact that he simply was... better. From divinely-ordained beauty that sought to captivate any who looked upon him to the superior intellect with which he'd received the earlier accolades of his career as a baron... it was an error in judgment that brought Elias to the lowest point in his life. He felt the rage fester within his soul as his mind flickered for the briefest of moments to his so recent disgrace, and he knew buried deep within his rage was the second wind of arousal. The desire curled his digits into Demi's hair, it brought him to meet the whore's eyes as he ravaged her sex and pressed his chest so ardently into her full breasts. The heat of her body against his, the way her legs knotted themselves around Elias of Stravos...
Even an experienced whore can succumb to the divine power of Elias of Stravos, he assured himself, his lips curved into a smirk.
Elias sought for the woman to chase her climax before he did, a sign of his fortuitous skill and the expectation given that his seed likely still clung to her throat from her previous ministrations. Elias of Stravos reveled in his use of every part of her body, delighted in the ravishment that was his to complete. This was but the first of their days together, the woman in his embrace to act both as recipient of his rage and a warmer for his bed in the absence of other woman able to visit him in this time of being home-bound. He no longer felt such discomfort in being confined to his home, for to indulge in Demi of Arcana was every bit the pleasure he could seek out elsewhere with none of the obligation to sway hearts and minds with sultry conversation.
Her question brought a curious expression to Elias' lips. Was it not apparent by the way he ravished her that he was enjoying himself? Or was she simply seeking his approval aloud for her own satisfaction? Certainly, her utterances, the repeated acknowledgement of his mastery over her body and the status he held again as 'lord' were appeals to his vanity... but nonetheless the asking of it brought a chuckle fromhis lips. He allowed his lips to settle upon her throat, rising along the racing pulse beneath her skin before the hand not wound within her hair moved to clutch at the woman's rear. The pressure he wrought was bruising before he struck the supple flesh, intent upon bringing her sex to clamp down upon him like a vise in his efforts to reach their mutual satisfaction.
"You've done well, whore. But, you still have much to prove," he decided. Never was any one orgasm, any one appeal to his vanity, or any one woman enough to satisfy the voracious appetite that was Elias' greed. But, Demi of Arcana had done well and he'd concede that much to her skill.
This whore is worth every bit of the sum paid for her service, the Strvos ruminated as he took her with him on this exquisite journey to the depths of pleasure. Her body was a delicious distraction, a welcome vice to shield him from the tireless rage that worked itself within every thought before her arrival. Of course, she was also the outlet, his relentless pace within her, the force with which he grasped at her body and the eagerness with which he left bruises on her all evidence of that fact. Elias of Stravos was not known for his mercy, but the pleasure he instilled within Demi was anything but merciful. She was his puppet, his plaything, her body his distraction and the reward of his well-spent coin and he had every right to take her as he pleased.
Dominion was part and parcel to the existence that was Elias of Stravos, the inevitable outcome of a life of believing in the very real fact that he simply was... better. From divinely-ordained beauty that sought to captivate any who looked upon him to the superior intellect with which he'd received the earlier accolades of his career as a baron... it was an error in judgment that brought Elias to the lowest point in his life. He felt the rage fester within his soul as his mind flickered for the briefest of moments to his so recent disgrace, and he knew buried deep within his rage was the second wind of arousal. The desire curled his digits into Demi's hair, it brought him to meet the whore's eyes as he ravaged her sex and pressed his chest so ardently into her full breasts. The heat of her body against his, the way her legs knotted themselves around Elias of Stravos...
Even an experienced whore can succumb to the divine power of Elias of Stravos, he assured himself, his lips curved into a smirk.
Elias sought for the woman to chase her climax before he did, a sign of his fortuitous skill and the expectation given that his seed likely still clung to her throat from her previous ministrations. Elias of Stravos reveled in his use of every part of her body, delighted in the ravishment that was his to complete. This was but the first of their days together, the woman in his embrace to act both as recipient of his rage and a warmer for his bed in the absence of other woman able to visit him in this time of being home-bound. He no longer felt such discomfort in being confined to his home, for to indulge in Demi of Arcana was every bit the pleasure he could seek out elsewhere with none of the obligation to sway hearts and minds with sultry conversation.
Her question brought a curious expression to Elias' lips. Was it not apparent by the way he ravished her that he was enjoying himself? Or was she simply seeking his approval aloud for her own satisfaction? Certainly, her utterances, the repeated acknowledgement of his mastery over her body and the status he held again as 'lord' were appeals to his vanity... but nonetheless the asking of it brought a chuckle fromhis lips. He allowed his lips to settle upon her throat, rising along the racing pulse beneath her skin before the hand not wound within her hair moved to clutch at the woman's rear. The pressure he wrought was bruising before he struck the supple flesh, intent upon bringing her sex to clamp down upon him like a vise in his efforts to reach their mutual satisfaction.
"You've done well, whore. But, you still have much to prove," he decided. Never was any one orgasm, any one appeal to his vanity, or any one woman enough to satisfy the voracious appetite that was Elias' greed. But, Demi of Arcana had done well and he'd concede that much to her skill.
Orgasm's and completions were never part of her client's concern, at least not most of them. Very rarely has Demi managed to find much pleasure when it came to servicing her clients and customers. Most of the time, they came for their pleasure, far be it for them to concern themselves with what their paid whore had felt. And for Demi, it was perfectly fine. She was in the business of selling her body, her customers can do what they want with it. She'd rather not tangle up her feelings and her customer's wants, and sought for her pleasure in the arms of her lover.
Yet it would seem the Stravos lord was intent on drawing that from her, from the way he played with her nub. Demi could feel the shockwaves of pleasure all the way to how her toes curled, and her thighs tightened around his hips. She could feel his lips upon her throat, crying out again when his palms harshly met her skin so much so that the surface of it stung.
"Ye-yes-, my lord." she gasped out, feeling the pleasure building within her. Her legs tightened around his waist, and Demi's grasp curled against the sheets of the bed she was in as her back arched against his. Her movements matched his now, the currying of pleasure too much within her to keep up an act - she wanted the completion, chased it just as much as the Stravos lord chased his now.
She could feel the wave building with each stroke of Elias within her, until a strangled cry suddenly escaped her as she arched up against him, her passage convulsing around Elias as liquid discharge escaped her as they always did. It was another of Demi's specialties, and why men sought her out - for it was rare to have women create noticeable puddle that differed from regular toilet upon their completion. Something about it made the men feel as if they have accomplished something... to Demi, it was simply another one of her marketable accomplishments.
Shaking in the aftermath of her own orgasm, Demi ensured to not let her body go limp, and instead urged Elias on, her palms finding their way to squeeze and grasp at the other's rear to encourage him to his own completion, and only then, did Demi finally allow her muscles to relax, as she allowed the lord to do as he wanted with her body, the energy spent within them.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Orgasm's and completions were never part of her client's concern, at least not most of them. Very rarely has Demi managed to find much pleasure when it came to servicing her clients and customers. Most of the time, they came for their pleasure, far be it for them to concern themselves with what their paid whore had felt. And for Demi, it was perfectly fine. She was in the business of selling her body, her customers can do what they want with it. She'd rather not tangle up her feelings and her customer's wants, and sought for her pleasure in the arms of her lover.
Yet it would seem the Stravos lord was intent on drawing that from her, from the way he played with her nub. Demi could feel the shockwaves of pleasure all the way to how her toes curled, and her thighs tightened around his hips. She could feel his lips upon her throat, crying out again when his palms harshly met her skin so much so that the surface of it stung.
"Ye-yes-, my lord." she gasped out, feeling the pleasure building within her. Her legs tightened around his waist, and Demi's grasp curled against the sheets of the bed she was in as her back arched against his. Her movements matched his now, the currying of pleasure too much within her to keep up an act - she wanted the completion, chased it just as much as the Stravos lord chased his now.
She could feel the wave building with each stroke of Elias within her, until a strangled cry suddenly escaped her as she arched up against him, her passage convulsing around Elias as liquid discharge escaped her as they always did. It was another of Demi's specialties, and why men sought her out - for it was rare to have women create noticeable puddle that differed from regular toilet upon their completion. Something about it made the men feel as if they have accomplished something... to Demi, it was simply another one of her marketable accomplishments.
Shaking in the aftermath of her own orgasm, Demi ensured to not let her body go limp, and instead urged Elias on, her palms finding their way to squeeze and grasp at the other's rear to encourage him to his own completion, and only then, did Demi finally allow her muscles to relax, as she allowed the lord to do as he wanted with her body, the energy spent within them.
Orgasm's and completions were never part of her client's concern, at least not most of them. Very rarely has Demi managed to find much pleasure when it came to servicing her clients and customers. Most of the time, they came for their pleasure, far be it for them to concern themselves with what their paid whore had felt. And for Demi, it was perfectly fine. She was in the business of selling her body, her customers can do what they want with it. She'd rather not tangle up her feelings and her customer's wants, and sought for her pleasure in the arms of her lover.
Yet it would seem the Stravos lord was intent on drawing that from her, from the way he played with her nub. Demi could feel the shockwaves of pleasure all the way to how her toes curled, and her thighs tightened around his hips. She could feel his lips upon her throat, crying out again when his palms harshly met her skin so much so that the surface of it stung.
"Ye-yes-, my lord." she gasped out, feeling the pleasure building within her. Her legs tightened around his waist, and Demi's grasp curled against the sheets of the bed she was in as her back arched against his. Her movements matched his now, the currying of pleasure too much within her to keep up an act - she wanted the completion, chased it just as much as the Stravos lord chased his now.
She could feel the wave building with each stroke of Elias within her, until a strangled cry suddenly escaped her as she arched up against him, her passage convulsing around Elias as liquid discharge escaped her as they always did. It was another of Demi's specialties, and why men sought her out - for it was rare to have women create noticeable puddle that differed from regular toilet upon their completion. Something about it made the men feel as if they have accomplished something... to Demi, it was simply another one of her marketable accomplishments.
Shaking in the aftermath of her own orgasm, Demi ensured to not let her body go limp, and instead urged Elias on, her palms finding their way to squeeze and grasp at the other's rear to encourage him to his own completion, and only then, did Demi finally allow her muscles to relax, as she allowed the lord to do as he wanted with her body, the energy spent within them.